


Little Red

by Spectascopes



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bitty Bones, BittyBones, Caretaking, Depression, Gen, Human, Human AU, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Suicide, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Recovery, Trans Male Character, Underfell, Underswap Papyrus, Underswap Sans, mentions of self harm, random other tags i cant think of, uhhhhh, underswap - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2018-10-19 03:19:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 27,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10631064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spectascopes/pseuds/Spectascopes
Summary: Russel (Underswap Papyrus) adopts a very frightened Underfell Sans bittybones





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so this is a WIP i wrote a few months ago and i know i'm never gonna finish it so here's the first chapter anyways (because i've been so dead)
> 
> The Red is based off of you-dirty-brother-killer's Red! I really love him, he's such an ugly kitten... 10/10 go check it out [x](http://you-dirty-brother-killer.tumblr.com/)
> 
> super sorry for the inactivity, i've hit what one might call an all time low with the inspiration and motivation and depression and stuff so its been hard to do more than get out of bed and preoccupy my mind, let alone DO anything... especially anything productive... but i'm back on meds and going to therapy so hopefully things start to get better soon- i'll try to pump some stuff out and try to get them creative juices flowing again :^P

 

He had to drive a good four hours to get to the nearest bitty store. He was just glad he lived close to a major city- he woulda been fucked if he’d lived more than five or six hours away. His patience wasn’t that long, he probably would have just gotten a cat or something.

Stan had told him multiple times that he should just spend a little bit of their savings and stay the night, but he’d shrugged his brother off as usual. Eight hours wasn’t bad, he’d thought. He’d lost plenty of night’s sleeps before, so this wasn’t much different. But, no, as it turned out, spending that many hours in a car was absolutely awful.

Rus made it to the city as tired as one could possibly be. As always, Stan had been right- he should have just brought enough money to snag a hotel for the night, but he hadn’t so now he had no choice.

Finding parking was shit. On his five block walk to the actual store he felt his spirits lift- he couldn’t deny he was excited as hell to get a pet. He’d been saving up for a bitty for _months_ now, but the cheapest of the little shits were still over five hundred bucks. His brother had supported him fully, of course, like he always did. He’d even pitched in a little, despite all of Rus’s protests. His brother worked himself to the bone, gave all he had in everything he did. He’d said a bitty would be a good choice, if he got the right kind.

As his leisurely stroll brought him closer to the store, Rus found himself lost in thought. What kind _would_ he get? He’d done a lot of research, all the stuff for the little guy was safe back in their apartment, but he had no idea what kind to get. He did like the prospect of the Edge’s, so tiny and filled with sass and anger. But did he really want to put up with that? He could go with something like a Sansy and get none of the anger but all of the sass, as well as some sick jokes from what he’d heard. But there were also the Papyrus’s, too. He could get a Papy, or a Boss, or a Lil Bro, or-

His ramblings brought him directly in front of the bitty store. It wasn’t big by any means, but then again, the things it sold rarely got taller than five or six inches, so it didn’t have to be. It was nestled between a coffee shop and what looked like a law firm. The front windows were clean and inviting, with pictures of some people and their bitties hanging inside. Russell smiled and hurried in, ducking his head because of his massive height.

The inside was just as nice as the outside. One of the walls was lined with supplies and cute little mini things, while the other had tanks filled with, well, bitties. There were a few of the little open enclosures pet stores had sometimes, but there were signs all over them that bitties were not to be picked up and children should be kept away at all times. That was a plus, at least.

“Hello! Welcome to Little Things. What can I help you with today?” the employee behind the counter asked, bustling over to Rus and giving him an enormous smile.

“I’m here to adopt, actually,” Rus said, looking over the guy’s head at all the tanks with bitties. Some were staring back at him, equally as intrigued.

“Absolutely!” the guy said, walking closer to the tanks and gesturing to them. “Did you have a particular bitty in mind?”

“Mm, nah, not really. Mind if I just look around for now?”

He straightened. “Of course! I’ll be behind the counter, if you have any questions or want to take one out just let me know,” he said, giving Rus another big grin. He scurried off and Rus was left alone, staring into the glass walls of the tanks to look at the bitties inside.

There sure were a lot of them looking at him. The nearest was an enclosure full of Papyrus-type bitties. Rus walked closer and leaned down to look. A Papy was staring up at him in wonder. It waved, and Rus couldn’t help but smile and wave back. God this was gonna be hard, they were all so tiny and cute. A Boss in the same tank shot him a look and he quickly moved on. Maybe not a Boss- he was kind of intimidating.

The bitties were all much the same. A Baby Blue came forward and jumped against the glass and waved while an Edge stood beside him with his arms crossed, eyeing Rus like he’d bomb the place.

“Hi!” the little pipsqueak of a bitty chirped, pressing his face to the glass. Baby Blue’s were a little too energetic for Rus, as far as he had read, but he knelt down closer to face level with the little thing and grinned.

“Heya, little dude.”

Baby Blue grinned, stars forming in his big ol eyes. “You’re so tall! Are you here to take somebody home?”

Rus smiled. He kind of reminded the human of his brother- short, round, and energetic to a fault.

“I might be. You got a sales pitch?”

The Baby Blue tilted his head. The angry little runt beside him groaned and turned away.

“C’mon, Blue, he wants to know why he should pick you,” the other explained. God their jackets were so small, this guy’s even had little tiny spikes on it.

The bitty clapped his hands together and looked back to Rus. “Oh! Well, I think you should pick whoever you like the most. Besides, I don’t want to get picked- then my friend would be lonely,” he said, reaching over and grabbing the other Sans bitty’s jacket. Rus’s heart melted even as the angry little thing screeched in indignity and shoved the little blue one away.

“Aww. Well, I can only afford one today, so I won’t pick either of you,” Rus said with another little grin. Baby Blue seemed surprised for a moment before he nodded and waved as the human began to walk away.

Rus continued to peruse the bitties. None of them seemed as eager to talk as the little Baby Blue had been, but he got some waves.

Once he was done looking at all the little guys in the tanks, he moved to the set ups in the middle of the store. One had an assortment of the much more exclusive (and expensive) non-skeleton bitties. A little Grillby bitty looked up at him. God he was a cutie- too bad Rus didn’t have the money for an exotic bitty. A Muffet gave him a wave with three of her hands as he gave them a parting “goodbye” and went to the next little open-topped enclosure.

He walked through, looking at all of his options, until he got to the back of the store. There was one little enclosure that was smaller than the rest- and it looked unoccupied. Rus hummed as he got closer and took a look. There was a little half-house thing in the pen, something that the others didn’t have. He leaned down and peeked inside, and sure enough, a little bitty was curled up in the farthest corner, back turned. Rus frowned. He heard delicate little sobs coming from the tiny dude.

“Ah, I’m sorry-” the store employee came around and stood beside the taller human, staring into the empty-looking enclosure. “You might not want this little guy…”

“Is he okay?” Rus asked. The sobbing quieted as they spoke.

“He’s, ah… he’s fine,” the employee said. “He gets overwhelmed by the others, so he stays on his own.”

Russell looked back into the little bitty house, but the tiny thing inside was turned away and curled up as tight as he could get. His frown deepened.

“Can I see him?”

The employee looked surprised. “You… want to hold him?”

“Yeah, if that’s okay.”

The kid seemed shocked, but he shook himself and reached forward into the house with only a moment’s pause. The sobbing escalated into hysterics. The guy shot Rus an apologetic look as he leaned down and began to coo.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay Red- somebody wants to see you, that’s all, don’t cry,” he said softly. Rus’s heart softened, and he was about to say it was okay, to leave the poor little guy in the house, but then the employee's hands were being pulled out, something unbelievably tiny clutched safely between them.

“Here- hold out your hands, not too high above the bedding, in case he gets spooked,” the guy instructed, and Rus complied immediately.

“Does he bite?”

“No no, he won’t bite, I promise. He’s, uh… he’s a little on the rough side, just make sure you don’t drop him,” the guy said as he laid his hand on top of Russell’s and gently, very gently deposited the little bitty into his upturned palms.

Rus wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but when the dude’s hands came away and he saw the little guy’s face, he nearly _did_ drop the thing.

He was incredibly small- the smallest one he’d seen here, by far. But that wasn’t the awful part- his face was… oh jeez.

The little bitty stared up at the human, big red tears running down his face. The right side of his skull was fine, but the left…

A large, unsightly crack ran down his left eye socket. The socket- somehow, he had no idea how- had become deformed and droopy. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it wasn’t for the fact that the eyelight in the socket was enormous- bulgy, almost, like one of those black goldfish. It was ugly and kind of gross, if Rus was being honest.

“What the hell happened to him?” he asked immediately. The tiny thing weighed next to nothing, but warmed his palms. It hiccuped and pulled its hood up, good eye staring at Rus’s palms.

“He’s a rescue,” the employee explained softly. “His first owner was… not kind to him. We don’t know exactly what happened to his eye socket. He’s been back and forth for a good three years now… nobody that adopts him ever wants to keep him.”

Rus stared down at the bitty. It looked terrified, shaking like a leaf in his palms, large eye staring at nothing while the other unharmed one looked at anything that wasn’t Rus’s face. His jacket was long, a couple sizes too large by the looks of it, and his shorts were pulled up way too high. His hands were tucked in the front. Rus made a face.

“Is he, uh…?”

“Ah, no no, sorry- its for comfort. He always does that,” the guy said, reaching down and touching the unharmed side of the little dude’s skull.

“Is he a Cherry?”

“We don’t know. He could be an Edge or a Cherry. We, uh, we think he suffered considerable head trauma when he got hurt,” the guy explained softly, rubbing the side of the bitty’s skull for comfort. It seemed to help calm him down, but he was still shaking. It made Rus nervous- he didn’t want to drop the little dude.

“So what’s his name?”

“We call him Red.”

Rus nodded. He didn’t like looking at the little guys face for too long, god it was ugly, but he felt so bad for the thing.

He hesitantly shifted the little guy to one of his palms, where he easily fit, and brought his other up to replace the store employee’s. The bitty flinched at first, but he just rubbed the skull the same way the other guy had done, and eventually he seemed to relax.

“Don’t worry lil’ dude, I won’t hurt ya,” Rus said softly. “You’re pretty tiny, huh?”

Red looked up at him but didn’t say anything. He kept looking away, even going so far to to take his hands from his shorts and cover the wounded side of his face.

“Aww…” Rus breathed.

“... I think he likes you,” the guy said, warmly looking at the little dude. “He’s had it so hard- people keep bringing him back, they buy him out of pity but then come back for an exchange when they realize he isn’t like the other bitties.”

“That’s fuckin’ awful,” Rus said immediately, still rubbing the little guy’s skull. “How much is he?”

“Fifty dollars.”

Rus jerked his head up to look at the dude. “Wait… seriously?”

The clerk scratched his chin. “Don’t buy him just for the discount! Legally we’re not allowed to sell a rescue for anything over seventy five, but he’s just as much work as any other bitty. More, maybe.”

“So he’s only fifty bucks?” Rus asked, bringing the bitty closer to him. Once he got past the ugly little face, the thing was kind of cute… like a hairless cat. A little unconventional, but good nonetheless.

“He is. You’ll have to sign some papers, though- he isn’t allowed near children or other potentially dangerous housepets.”

Rus looked down at the little guy. His eyes were closed as he leaned gently into the touch of his finger.

“I’ll take him.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well here this is- i really can't promise this will get finished, but i'll try my best! 
> 
>  
> 
> [here's the human swap pap i drew](http://theperfecta-rt.tumblr.com/post/156884895137/i-forgot-about-posting-this-boy-but-heres-a#notes) if anybody was interested in how he looks in this fic. still need to draw stan rip

 

An hour of paperwork later, Russell stood with the little guy clutched in a take-home box. The store employee handed him a card and a little bag of things.

Rus said his goodbyes to the helpful guy. He seemed nervous yet apprehensive- and Rus could understand why. Who could say he wouldn’t bring the little guy back to the store, too? He kept the box with the bitty clutched tight to his chest as he walked back to his car. It was dark and cold out, so he hurried, just in case the little thing got chilly. He’d been given a little tiny water bottle and some food to eat on the way home, but Rus didn’t want him to get upset again.

He made it to his car without incident and quickly got in and turned the heat on. He wished he could take the bitty out of his box for the car ride home, but he had a feeling that wouldn’t go over well. He sat it on the car seat beside him and buckled it in before opening the top and peering down into it.

Red was huddled in the corner, still shaking, still looking absolutely terrified. He jerked his head up when he saw Rus looking down at him.

“Shh, it’s alright, don’t be scared. I’m just checking to make sure you’re okay. It’s a pretty long ride home, little dude, will you be okay?” 

Red nodded before Rus was even finished speaking. The human frowned, but reached into the bag of things the employee had given him and drew out a little blanket.

“Here you go- in case you get cold. I’ll leave the top of the box open, alright? If you need anything just holler.”

The bitty didn’t do anything. His good eye darted up to look at Rus for a fraction of a second before he sunk further against the sides and looked away, pulling his hood up and hiding his face.

Rus made a quiet noise. He wondered what exactly he’d managed to get himself into.

 

The ride home was uneventful. Aside from the occasional quiet sniffle, Red didn’t speak a word. Rus pulled over every hour to check in on him and give him a five or ten minute break, in case the car ride scared him. 

It gave him time to text his brother. Stan had promised to stay up until Rus got home, and he didn’t doubt his brother would do just that- or at least try to. He took the time to warn his bro about Red being a little… sensitive. And about his face, in case Stan was surprised like Rus had been and said something that would make Red upset.

The four hours gave him plenty of time to think about his decision. He did a lot of questioning, for sure. It was a nice idea, to give this little guy a good home when he’d been through so many bad ones, but was it  _ really _ worth it? He could have gotten a perfectly healthy bitty like he’d originally intended… how fucked up  _ was _ Red? He had no way of knowing.

He sighed. Well, in any case, if it didn’t work out he’d just take the little guy back like all the people before him. Stan seemed on board with it- excited that they’d be taking in a rescue. It gave them brownie points with the universe, at least. 

When he finally,  _ finally _ got home, he was hungry and exhausted. Going Friday night after work might not have been the best idea- it was past midnight by the time he walked back into the apartment, Red’s box in hand.

“Bro, I’m home,” he called as he kicked off his shoes. There was a groan of confirmation and before he could do more than make it to the little kitchen area to set the box down, his brother was emerging from the living room.

“How was the trip?” Stan asked, wiping his eyes. Rus smiled.

“Pretty alright. Thought you were gonna stay up till I got home?”

“I did! I was just resting my eyes for a bit.”

Rus chuckled. His brother was dressed in a blue tank top and black sweatpants, his little messy mohawk even more messy than it usually was. He yawned as he came over and inspected Red’s box, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

Rus went over and opened it up. Red was still inside, in the same place he was when he was placed in the thing. He glanced up at Rus for a moment before he began shaking with renewed vigor. Rus sighed but gently scooped him up, grabbing the blanket too and letting him hug it for comfort.

Red looked ready to pass out. He buried his face into Russell’s palm and before either could do anything he began crying again.

Stan looked up at Rus with sadness in his eyes before he gestured to the bitty, the universal sign of ‘do something.’

Rus kept his hands only a couple inches above the counter as he once again shifted the bitty to his one hand and rubbed his skull with the other.

“Hey now, it’s alright, bud.”

Red sobbed and pressed himself even further into Rus’s fingers, grabbing so tight it was painful. Rus looked at Stan, but his brother was already moving to take the bitty out of his hands. 

“Shh shhh, it’s okay little guy,” Stan cooed. Rus moved the bitty to his brother’s hands. Stan was definitely the more comforting of the two- physically as well. He was short and chubby, where Rus was enormous and lanky. Stan brought the bitty against his chest and rocked him gently. “You’re okay. You can cry if you need to. We won’t hurt you.”

Rus went about getting the things he’d gotten from the store ready. He’d decided before ever going to the store that he’d set the bitty up in the living room- where the brother’s spent a majority of their time. He heard Stan continue to talk to Red as he got things ready.

“It’s alright, it’s okay,” he cooed gently. “We just have to get your things ready, then you can relax.” Rus walked back into the kitchen to see the bitty grabbing at his brother’s tank top, finally calming down. “You’re fine, see? It’s all good,” Stan said gently, rubbing the little thing’s back. He looked up at Rus and grimaced. Maybe he was starting to question the whole ‘rescue’ thing, too.

The two brother’s got the bitty situated in his house, setting him down on the big, fluffy pillow that doubled as a bed for the little guy. He curled up, still sniffling, but he was no longer in hysterics as he looked up at the two of them for just a second before averting his gaze and curling up tighter.

“There you go, little guy,” Rus said, reaching out and rubbing his skull. It was so tiny- he could probably crush it between two of his fingers, if he wanted to. He pushed the morbid thought away and continued rubbing the bitty. “You just relax for now, okay? I know it must be hard, but you just take your time and chill out, yeah?”

“I’m Stan, and this is Rus,” Stan introduced them, and Red looked up just long enough to see him point in turn. “We’re gonna look after you, okay? So if you need anything, just let us know.”

Red sniffled and pressed his face into the pillow. Rus grimaced at the thought of that nasty bulgy eye rubbing on the fabric, but he said nothing. 

The two left Red to calm down. Rus chewed his lip, wondering if he’d made the right choice. Stan seemed worried as well. He beckoned his brother into his bedroom and closed the door behind him.

It wasn’t hard to tell when Stan was upset. He was as easy to read as a book- always had been. He threw himself onto his bed- which was covered in a space-themed comforter, and stared aimlessly at the wall.

“So… what d’ya think?” Rus asked, taking his usual seat on the edge. “I told you he was a little rough.”

“A little?” Stan asked, sitting up again and taking a seat next to his brother. He rubbed his eyes. “That poor thing…”

“Yeah… heard his first owner wasn’t nice.”

“He had to have been abused. There’s no other explanation for how he acts… could head trauma really make him like that?” Stan asked.

“I don’t know, bro. Maybe. We’d have to look into it,” Rus said, kicking his legs out and falling back on the bed. Stan followed suit with a sigh.

“Poor guy… he’s so scared. I wish there was more we could do.”

“I’m sure he’ll get better with time… he’s just stressed from changing homes, I bet.”

Stan made a soft noise of agreement. He yawned, and both seemed to remember that it was late and they had a Saturday of bitty-handling ahead of them.

Stan was the first to sit up, reaching around and under his shirt to undo his binder. 

“C’mon, bro, you need to order a new one,” Rus said, leaning forward and giving him a hand when he couldn’t quite unclasp it. “You’ve had this one forever. I’ve read they aren’t great for you.”

“I’ll get to it one of these days…” he said, pulling it out from under his shirt.

“How long have you had it on today?” Rus asked. When his brother’s answer wasn’t immediate, he sat up and poked his side. “Stan…”

“I know, I know- too long. Since I left this morning.”

“ _ Stan.  _ That’s more than twelve hours.”

He blushed. “I know! I just… it makes me feel better, is all.” He turned and gave his brother an apologetic look, round face scrunched up in a sort of grimace that said “I did something I shouldn’t have but at least I’m sorry about it.”

“It isn’t good for you… just don’t do it again if you can, aight?”

“I won’t, I promise,” he said. He yawned, and this time Rus did too. 

They sat there for a bit longer, just relaxing, enjoying the quiet. Rus day dreamed of ways to save up the daunting amount of money it would take to get Stan top surgery. He also thought about Red, and how great it was that he’d been cheap, because it meant more money could go towards things they needed. 

He hauled himself to his feet before he passed out on his brother’s bed. “I’ll go check on Red, you get some sleep,” he said, reaching over and ruffling Stan’s short hair. 

Stan pushed his hands away with a smile. “Stop that- only the older brother’s get to ruffle hair.”

“Says who?”

“The law.”

Russel snickered. “You’re a dingus. And I’m still gonna mess up your mohawk every chance I get.”

“Just because your hair is a sloppy mess doesn’t mean everybody else’s has to be,” Stan said. He smiled until a yawn took it away and he proceeded to snuggle into his bed.

“I work hard to maintain my level of mess,” Rus said, grabbing Stan’s binder where he’d discarded it on the floor and setting it on his dresser. “G’night bro.”

“Night, Rus. Love you,” Stan said, eyes already closed and comforter pulled up around him like a space-themed cloud.

“Love you, too,” Rus said. He flicked on Stan’s rocket ship night light and headed out, closing the door behind him. Midnight was late for Stan- he was usually out by ten if he didn’t have anything to do. All about starting his days bright and early, catching all those worms and stuff.

The apartment was quiet when Stan was sleeping. Rus stood in the small dining room for a moment before the sound of little sobs drew his attention back to the bitty at hand.

Red was still curled up on the pillow, but he was crying. Rus stared at him from the open doorway to the living room, his heart aching but unsure of what to do. There really wasn’t anything he could say to comfort the little guy- nothing that he hadn’t already said. He stood there and listened to the sobs for a moment longer, able to make out Red’s shaking little frame from where he stood, before he turned and headed to his bedroom. 

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rip me its been a while, i've been spendin a lot of time trying to get some semblance of normalcy back in my life, so i haven't written much. but hopefully that will pass, things are gettin better and lookin up, who knows!
> 
> have some more hurt/comfort self indulgent bitty bones (i'll mention again that red is p much entirely inspired by [you-dirty-brother-killer](http://you-dirty-brother-killer.tumblr.com/) and their "ugly kitten" red, warning for some fontcest on their blog)

 

Rus was woken by Stan, who was already dressed and ready for the day. The younger brother groaned and looked up at his bro, who was looking down at him with a bit of a half-smile.

“Up and at ‘em, Rus- we’ve got a bitty to take care of today,” he said, thankfully keeping his voice down to compensate for Rus’s baby just-woke-up ears.

“Mm… ‘m up,” he said, rolling over and curling into the blanket tighter. God he was tired.

“Ohhh no… you don’t want me to come over there and  _ tickle _ you, do you?” Stan threatened. Rus groaned again, twice as loud, but heaved himself up and rubbed his eyes. 

“Okay… I’m up,” he said, stretching and yawning, his bones popping in an extremely pleasant way. Stan gave him a gentle thump on the shoulder and left the room again, flicking the light on as he went.

Rus sat for a moment, trying to wake up more fully. It was almost always the morning routine. Stan came in and got him up, cause he was always up at the crack of dawn like some ridiculous person with their life together. Rus sighed and stretched again, trying to prepare himself for Red.

He eventually hauled himself out of bed, dragging on an old shirt and some pajama pants. He wasn’t planning on leaving the apartment, so he didn’t bother getting dressed, but he should at least be presentable for the new addition to their family. He’d usually laze around in his boxers until lunch time and get scolded by his bro, but he conceded.

The smell of eggs and bacon hit him before he was even out of his room. The apartment was by no means large, but it was comfortable for just two people. The kitchen was the central area, where the door was, and there was a small table sat near one of the walls. Rus sat himself down at one of the two chairs and leaned over it, still a bit groggy.

“Need any help?” he offered, watching his brother juggle a couple of pans around their relatively small stove.

“No thank you!” Stan chirped. He had on one of his favorite aprons- a soft daisy-yellow piece of fabric that had a picture of a donut on it and read “I donut understand food puns!” on it. Stan loved aprons- he had a small collection of them.

Rus sighed and stood, going over to make coffee. That was the trade off- Stan made breakfast, Rus made coffee. It was a little unfair, but if Rus was left to cook they’d be having packets of oatmeal and freezer breakfast sandwiches every day. 

“What kind d’ya want today?” 

“Ohh…” Stan paused as he thought, holding his pan of bacon. “Hazelnut, please!”

“You got it.”

 

 

Another five minutes and everything was ready. Stan was setting the table, two big plates for the two of them, and a tiny little place for Red, who was being served in various bottle caps Stan had collected.

Rus went to see how the little guy was faring this morning. He stepped into the living room- separated from the kitchen by an open doorway- and stepped over to Red’s home.

He was just where they’d left him, curled up on the cushion, face pressed into the fabric. When he heard Rus approach, he jerked his head up and whined.

“Hey little dude,” Rus said as he crouched down a tad to be on eye level with Red. “You want some breakfast? We got it all ready at the table.”

Red stared at him for a moment before looking away. His bulgy eye nearly made Rus lose his appetite. He looked over and saw that Red hadn’t touched any of the things they’d left for him, not even the water. Rus frowned.

“You okay, little guy? You didn’t drink your water.”

Red shoved his head back into the pillow. Rus’s frown deepened as he opened the rather spacious cage and gently touched Red’s back.

He started shaking, and Rus withdrew immediately.

“I’m sorry, little dude…” Rus remembered what the employee had done at the store, and he gently rubbed the back of Red’s skull with one of his fingers, trying to trace soothing circles.

“You’re fine, little guy, I promise. But you need to eat… we don’t want you to go hungry. Is it okay if I pick you up?”

Red was still shaking, and Rus had a feeling he really didn’t want to be held, but he nodded anyways, after a good ten seconds of no response.

Rus went about gently, very very gently, picking the little guy up. He slid his hand underneath the bitty, and Red immediately clutched at his fingers as though he was going to be dropped. He heard a little whimper and stopped.

“Shh, hey, it’s okay- It’s fine, lil’ guy. I’m not gonna drop ya,” he said softly. It took a bit, but he eventually coaxed Red into his upturned palms, cradling him like an expensive glass vase. 

He continued to rub the scared little skeleton’s head, keeping well away from that nasty eye and the hardened cracks that ran along his left side. When they made it to the kitchen, Stan sitting at the table and waiting in worry, Rus moved around to the third little set up Stan had made- complete with a little ‘table’ for Red, a tiny cup, and his bottle cap plates. The cutest addition might have been the bitty-sized fork and spoon that they’d bought.

Rus eased Red out of his palm, waiting for the little guy to get his footing before drawing away. It was the first time Rus had seen the little dude standing up. He knew that most bitties were three to five inches tall, but Red seemed to be smaller. Rus would guess two and a half, maybe a little more. 

Red just stood there, looking back and forth between the brothers, hunched over and jacket pulled tight around him. 

“Good morning, Red,” Stan said gently, giving him his best smile. “I made you some breakfast, if you want it.”

Red glanced at him, shifting his feet for a moment, before looking back down. Rus noticed the little tears beginning to form before Stan did.

He reached over and cupped his hand around Red, hoping to provide some sort of shelter. The bitty leaned back into his palm and tried to bury his face in his fluffy hood. His tiny sniffles were the only sound in the apartment, for a moment.

Rus looked at his brother. Stan had always been a worry-wart, but this time Rus completely understood. The bitty sniffled, and Rus could feel his little body shaking.

“Hey… it’s okay, Red. It’s just breakfast- as soon as you’re done you can go back to your house if you want to,” Rus said.

Red silenced himself, but there was no reply.

“We want you to be comfortable, but you have to eat… I promise it's good food!” Stan tried to reassure the bitty. “You don’t have to eat all of it, but you have to get something in those bones of yours… the last thing we want is for you to get ill or go hungry.”

Red did nothing, but after his moment’s pause he inched his way out of the curve of Rus’s palm and looked at the two in turn, hood still pulled up, big tears still gathered at the corners of his sockets. He looked at Rus in something that would have been close to curiosity, if it hadn’t been so plagued with fear and suspicion. He could only maintain eye contact for a moment before his good eye darted downward again, shifting his hood to cover the scarred and deformed side of his skull.

He was more receptive after that, but he still looked ready to jump out of his high-waisted and oversized shorts at any second. Rus kept his palm nearby, managing to eat his scrambled eggs with his non-dominant hand for Red’s sake.

The little bitty didn’t seem to know what to do with the silverware. It hurt Rus’s heart to think that he’d never had any, but it was evident that was the case. He picked up his tiny portion of eggs with his bare hands, nibbling at it. His eye lit up, and he dove in with more vigor. Stan beamed, reaching over and rubbing the side of his skull like he’d seen Rus do. 

“I’m glad you like it, Red! Do you have any foods you really like? I’d be happy to make them for you,” Stan said. Red leaned a little into his finger and continued to chow down, but he shook his head. 

It wasn’t a miracle, and he was still withdrawn and refused to speak, but after eating things seemed to improve, if only a little bit. The two brother’s finished up before the bitty and offered him a little wet paper towel to wipe his hands with. He seemed confused, so Stan demonstrated what to do. 

Stan carried him back to the living room and sat him back down in his home. Technically it was a cage- but it felt wrong to call it that. It was large, certainly large enough for one undersized bitty, but it was also empty. They wanted to let the bitty decide how to spice it up, but it didn’t seem like Red would be giving input anytime soon. Besides, they left the bottom door open, and they were at floor level. It wasn’t meant as a place to trap Red, just to let him have a safe space.

The day passed by largely with the brothers sitting around and relaxing, as they usually did. They gave Red his lunch and dinner in his home, figuring that one meal a day outside of it was enough until he warmed up. He even got up and looked around for awhile, examining the doors and the bars and the other things they’d left for him.

It wasn’t much, but it was progress.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more of this sad boy, because i love him dearly (i'm back on a schedule, so i'm aiming for an update every week. dont quote me, but i'll fuckin try)

 

Red’s improvement was like some kind of song and dance number; for every two steps forward he seemed to take another back- alternating between seemingly growing acquainted to the home and being terrified of everything that moved. 

Throughout the week, he did make strides with the breakfast routine, though. While Stan worked nearly every day as the manager of a nearby grocery store, Rus only worked a couple of days a week as an assistant pharmacist. Usually the younger brother wouldn’t wake up to see Stan off every morning, but he’d been doing so, and hence he was up for breakfast with Red. The little guy had been doing better, and at the six day mark his tremors and sniffles finally seemed to be calming down. 

It was late Saturday night, just over a week since Red had been brought home. Rus had been trying to keep a decent sleep schedule, but he still had his off days. This was definitely one of them- he’d laid down a few hours prior but had been woken up by God knew what. He groaned and looked over at his alarm- three in the morning. He laid there for a while, staring at the ceiling with an arm draped over his head, before he realized there wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to be able to fall asleep again. 

One hefty heave later and he was upright, sitting on the edge of his bed and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He grabbed his phone and checked his usual social media outlets for a bit, but nothing much of interest grabbed him. Better check on Red, he thought as he yawned.

Rus stood, stretched, and then walked out and flicked on the light to illuminate the kitchen/dining room combo. He didn’t expect to see Red standing near the entrance to the living room, staring up at him like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming eighteen-wheeler. 

Rus opened his mouth to greet the bitty, trying to will away another yawn, but as soon as he raised his hand to wave the tiny thing had turned tail and darted back into the other room.

He blinked, unsure what had spooked him until he slapped his forehead and remembered that, duh,  _ everything _ scared Red. He took a few slow steps forward and crossed the expanse of the kitchen, peaking around the corner. 

“Red? You okay, bud?” he called gently. He reached over and turned on the lamp. It took his eyes a second to adjust and to find the shape of the skeleton curled on the floor near his cage. His voice died in his throat when he heard the shuddering sobs being pressed into the carpet. 

For a second, he wasn’t quite sure what to do. He moved forward, but Red didn’t seem to be looking at him. His knees were drawn up and his head was tucked between them, those awful noises coming from the fluff of his hoodie.

“Hey… hey, Red, what’s wrong?” Rus asked, easing himself down to his knees beside the shaking thing. He reached out to touch him, but thought better of it. Was being caught out of his cage really all it took to scare him this bad?

Rus hardly registered the tiny words being filtered through his hood. He leaned down a bit closer, his heart in his stomach, but it sounded like Red was just mumbling to himself between sobs.

Rus frowned. He shifted slowly so he was sitting closeby, ready to help if he was needed. He thought about picking Red up, but he knew that wouldn’t help. He stared down at the trembling pile of bones with sad eyes. 

He didn’t really know how long he sat there. It might have been ten minutes before Red’s hysteria began to fade, his bubbling sobs being replaced with sniffles and hiccups. Rus waited patiently. God he wished he could do more. 

Eventually, Red uncurled enough to lift his head and expose only his good eye. He glanced up at Rus for a second before sucking in another breath and resuming his fetal position. He looked so small and helpless, curled in the middle of the living room floor.

“Shh, it’s okay…” Rus said as softly as he could. “Just breathe, little dude. I’m not gonna hurt ya.”

Red whined. Rus swallowed back a pitiful noise that threatened to leave his throat before he reached forward and softly scooped Red into his palm.

“Is this okay? Am I hurting you?” he asked, keeping his hand on the floor to allow Red to leave if he so wished. But instead the bitty curled up against his palm , wrapping his arms around his thumb and clinging to it for all he was worth. 

Rus made sure his movements were slow and careful. He brought Red close to his chest and held him there, letting the bitty cry and bury his face in his shirt. He still didn’t speak- Rus was beginning to wonder if he even could. He used his other hand to gently rub his charge’s back, cooing little reassurances when the tiny thing wasn’t sniffling. 

“There ya go, see? It’s all good, you’re okay,” he said. He’d been so worried about not being able to comfort the little guy, but as the days wore on it was all he really wanted to do. He felt each little notch in his spine as he thumbed it gently. “You’re allowed out of the cage, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong. That’s why we leave the bottom doors open, yeah?”

Red quickly nodded into his shirt. Russel felt small patches of moisture grow where the bitty’s face was pressed, but he ignored it and continued his ministrations. 

It took a long time for Red to stop crying. Even then, he never stopped trembling, not even when Rus slowly stood and took him back to his cage and eased him onto his bed. He rubbed Red’s skull for a moment before he withdrew and gave the little guy his space.

“There ya go, all safe and sound,” Rus said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “You’re okay. I’m sorry I spooked you.”

Red looked over at him for a second, those big, sad red eyes meeting his for a fleeting moment before he turned back to his cushion and hid himself in it. He nodded into the fabric. 

“I’m gonna be in the kitchen, okay? You can come get me if you need something, I promise you’re allowed anywhere in the apartment.”

Red nodded without looking up at the human.

Rus let out a quiet breath and stood. “Okay. We’re not gonna hurt ya, little guy, no matter what. Just remember that, kay?”

Another nod.

Rus went and got his phone from his bedroom and sat down at the kitchen table. The whole ordeal had lasted nearly twenty minutes, and all he’d done was walk out of his bedroom. He distracted himself by playing phone games.

It was mentally exhausting… but somehow, having something even more fucked up than him to take care of gave him motivation to be better. He stared down at his phone and the dull screen and the rest of the dark home, the only noise that of Red’s soft, barely audible sniffles. 

Even if he was a lot of work, Rus knew he’d never take Red back. 


	5. Chapter 5

Rus spent the rest of that twilight time before Stan awoke thinking about Red’s little sniffles and the way his whole body looked like it’d rattle itself apart. Once his brother was awake, he went into his bedroom and quietly explained to him what had transpired the night before. 

“Oh jeez…” Stan said softly, tugging on a clean pair of pants. Rus turned when he went to take his nightshirt off and put his binder on.

“Yeah, it was… it was pretty bad,” Rus said with a deep sigh as he stared at the wall. “He just sort of… broke, y’know? It was like he was barely there.”

“Binder,” Stan requested, and Rus turned back and helped his brother latch it. Stan looked deep in thought as he sifted through his drawers to find a suitable shirt.

“Psychosis, maybe?” he offered, picking up a few, giving them a look, and then putting them back. “It could be he’s just having very severe panic attacks.”

Rus leaned against the bedroom door, careful of the posters on it, and scratched his chin, noting that he’d have to shave soon- he was starting to get stubbly. “God, bro, all I did was walk out of my room…”

Stan finally found a shirt that tickled his fancy and pulled it over his head. It amazed Rus his brother could get dressed and ready as soon as he woke up even when he  _ didn’t _ have to work. 

“His bad owner might have punished him for leaving his cage,” Stan said thoughtfully, taking a seat on his bed and patting the mattress beside. Rus walked over and sat.

“That’s so fucking awful,” Rus mused. 

“The employee at the store said that’s how he got his cracks, right?”

Rus nodded. His gut felt dark and sludgy at the thought of somebody hurting the little skeleton. What sort of fuckin’ sicko would do something like that? Red was absolutely helpless, couldn’t even begin to protect himself against something as big as a human.

“I hate it, too, but that’s the logical conclusion,” Stan said. He leaned his head on Rus’s shoulder and sighed. “That poor thing… how could anybody do that?”

“Some asshole with a huge complex and no morals, I guess.”

Stan hummed in agreement. “Well… he’s here now. We’re doing the best we can, and I think it’s helping, but… it’s going to take time.”

Rus wrapped his arm around his brother and gave him a side-hug. “Why can’t this stuff just… go away. I hate it.”

“Yeah. That’s how I’ve always felt about your depression.”

“Same with your dysphoria and stuff,” Rus said, pulling his brother tighter. 

They stayed like that for a little bit. Rus could never express in words how much he loved and appreciated his brother- all the things Stan did for him, all while struggling himself. Things were more stable now, but even when they’d been awful, Stan had never wavered. They were the only family one another had. Rus rested his chin on his brother’s head. 

“Love you,” he said softly.

“Love you too, Rus,” Stan replied at once. 

“Why couldn’t we get good parents… why’d they have to be fuckin’ demons.”

Stan laughed and pushed his brother away. “They weren’t… entirely bad. Maybe…” Stan rubbed his neck. “... Okay, yeah, they were bad.”

“Any fuckin’ parent that kicks their kid out for being trans deserves to choke,” Rus said, letting his long-standing anger get the better of him like it always did. “I hope they rot in hell, honestly, like  _ fuck _ them. I’m gonna send them a bag of my shit in the mail.”

Stan’s face scrunched in good-natured disgust as he punched his brother on the shoulder. “That’s just  _ gross _ , brother.”

“ _ They’re _ gross. They deserve it. God I wish I could just…” Rus curled his hands into fists and huffed. 

Stan patted his shoulder. “I know. How do you think I felt when they refused to take you to see a therapist?”

Rus groaned. “Ugh, yeah.” He pitched his voice in a mockery of their mother’s: “Just go outside! Hug a tree! Go for a jog! Medicine will  _ change _ you, sweetie, you’ll never be the same, the devil will come and  _ tickle  _ your  _ balls _ -”

Stan choked on a laugh and thumped his brother’s chest, which only made Rus start giggling.

“You’re so  _ gross! _ ” Stan laughed, wiping a tear from his eye.

Rus calmed himself and grinned idly. Stan stood, offering Rus his hand, who took it and heaved himself to his feet.

“Well, all that matters is that they’re far away now, and we’re never gonna see them again,” Stan said with a nice sense of finality. “Let’s go make breakfast.”

“You got it, boss.”

 

 

They didn’t make Red join them for their morning meal. Stan made waffles, and the two brother’s ate their fill before preparing Red’s portion and setting all of it on a tiny plate. Rus gave him both milk and orange juice, and maybe a bigger piece of breakfast dessert chocolate than usual, to try and make him feel better.

“Hey Red, you hungry? You get breakfast in bed today,” Rus announced as he picked his way into the living room, careful not to spill the tiny cups of liquid. Stan was still cleaning up in the kitchen.

Red was curled on his bed, just as expected. He blinked up at Rus as he came closer, big dark bags under his eyes and dried tear tracks on his cheekbones. He shakily got to his feet as Rus crouched down to be more on-level with the bitty. It was like Godzilla looking into the window of an office building.

“Stan made waffles- I gave you some extra chocolate, and there’s milk and orange juice,” he said as he opened the top doors of the cage with one hand and gently deposited the little plate nearby. 

Red stared at him. The human gave the bitty a small half-smile. He wished he knew what was going on in the little dude’s head. 

Red looked at the food, and then back at Rus. His tiny hands were trembling.

Rus really didn’t expect him to say anything- he hadn’t said a word all week. But Red looked up at him as familiar tears gathered in his sockets.

“D-Did I… d-do something wrong?”

Rus’s heart went cold. That little voice- it was pathetic and hoarse and it made him feel some dark emotion he didn’t like.

“Wh.. what?” he asked, at a loss.

Red started crying. “I-I- I’m s-s-sorry for c-crying-” he whimpered. He glanced up at Rus but then quickly averted his gaze, favoring to hug himself instead. “P-Please don’t- p-p-please don’t…”

Rus didn’t know what to say. He waited for Red to continue, but the bitty just cried. 

“Red… you didn’t do anything wrong,” Rus said, but his words just made Red cry harder, the tears splattering against the cage floor as he bent over himself and sobbed.

“I-I’m sorry- I won’t- I won’t c-cry anymore-” he said while crying. Maybe the irony would have been funny, but Rus felt like a boulder had settled in his got. Red sucked in a shuddering breath. “I w-won’t break- p-please don’t ma-ake me stay in here-” 

Rus moved forward and pushed the plate of food aside, putting his hand around Red. “Hey, shh, Red it’s fine… you’re okay, buddy, just breathe.”

The bitty shut up at once but latched onto Rus’s hand, hugging it and crying and shaking.

Rus didn’t know what to do. He ran his thumb over Red’s skull- what had triggered this? Was it residual panic from last night? 

“I-I’m sorry,” Red bawled. “I-I-I’m sorry-”

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, Red, you didn’t do anything wrong, I promise,” Rus whispered. “What happened? Why do you think I’m mad at you?”

“B-Breakfast…” he whimpered, pressing his face into Rus’s hand. The bulgy eye was so far from Rus’s mind he didn’t even register it. “Y-You didn’t… t-take me out f-for food… I-I-I didn’t- mean to b-break la-ast night- pl-lease don’t be mad…”

Rus had a bit of trouble making out his words between the choking sobs, but he pieced it together enough for his heart to ache. It was overwhelming- it had already been hard enough when Red was silent, but now he was articulating how fucked up and scared he was, and it was so overwhelming.

“Aww, Red… that’s… that’s not why I didn’t take you out,” he said softly. “I didn’t want to stress you out again, after last night… it isn’t because I’m upset with you.”

Red sobbed. Rus was completely at a loss, so he just scooped Red up and held him close and rubbed his little back.

“Shh… deep breaths,” he reassured. “I’m not mad. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise,” Rus repeated, hoping if he said it enough it would get through to the little bitty. “You’re okay.”

It was like the floodgates had opened. Red clung to his shirt for all he was worth and absolutely broke, sobbing and bawling and wailing. 

“I-I’m- I-I’m scared-” he wept. “I’m scared-”

Rus’s chest was going to burst. He wasn’t qualified for this- God he wasn’t qualified for this. He just held Red and cooed little reassurances when he could speak around the lump in his throat.

Stan obviously heard the commotion. He hurried in and knelt down beside his brother. Red looked up at him for a second before going back to his shirt, curling up as much as physically possible.

Rus shared a worried look with his brother. Stan looked so badly like he wanted to help, to do  _ something _ , but there was nothing either of them could do aside from talk to the poor guy.

“D-Don’t take me back- pl-ple-ase don’t- take me back-” Red whimpered. He was a snotty, stuttering mess. He refused to look at either of the brothers. “D-Don’t- please- don’t- I-I don’t w-want to be alone a-again-”

Tears were gathering in Stan’s eyes. He reached forward and cupped his hand against his brother’s, supporting the bitty however he could.

“Red, honey, it’s okay- you’re not going anywhere,” Stan reassured softly. He wiped his own tears away. “We’re not mad at you- nobody is mad at you, okay?”

“B-b-but I’m- I-I’m broken-” he sniffled. “I’m s-stupid and broken- and- and I- I’m so s-scared-” he cut himself off and whined. Rus’s shirt was soaked where his head was pressed, but he just clutched the bitty tighter and gave his brother a helpless look. 

“You’re absolutely none of those things, Red,” Stan said, gently rubbing Red’s tiny skull, the pad of his index finger big enough to cover most of the surface. “You’re allowed to be scared, moving to a new home with new people is definitely scary- I’d be scared, too. But you’re safe here- okay? We won’t ever hurt you, or punish you, we just want you to feel safe.”

Red sniffled, but thankfully Stan’s words seemed to be getting through to him. He hesitantly pulled his head away from the fabric and looked up at Rus, and then to Stan.

“I-I’m… I-I-I’m sorry for c-crying, and...and being b-broken,” he said with a hiccup.

“You’re not broken, Red… you’ve just been through so much. And it’s okay to be scared because of that,” Stan soothed. “You’re gonna be okay, and you’re gonna stay right here with me and Russel, alright? We’d never send you away again.”

Rus was infinitely glad that his brother was so good at comforting people. He’d never be able to put it so eloquently.

Red nodded into Rus’s chest, still shaking like a leaf, but hopefully beginning to calm down. Rus stared down at him, a little bag of bones small enough to be clutched in his hands, and felt an overwhelming urge to protect him. 

Stan helped Rus up, taking Red with the two of them, and guided everybody to the couch. Red didn’t say anything else, his hysteria ending as abruptly as it had begun. Rus held him in his lap, letting him rest against his belly while he calmed.

The brothers shared a look full of emotions. An unspoken agreement passed between them- they’d do whatever it took to help their bitty get better.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more little redddd, sorry for lack of updates, was in boston last week and then some unfortunate family stuff happened

It took him a while to calm down. Rus held him the entire time, rubbing his tiny little back and talking calmly with his brother, hoping to create a welcoming atmosphere for the bitty. Stan stayed beside him, reaching down and occasionally rubbing his skull and reassuring him with gentle words. 

Rus noticed him going slack while he chatted with Stan about TV shows- he looked down at the bitty in his palms and saw his socket shut, curled up against his stomach, sleeping. The human couldn’t help but smile.

“Hey, Stan, look,” Rus whispered, nodding down at the bitty. Stan blinked and followed his gaze and he stifled a little squeal, hands coming up to cover his mouth. 

It was a good sign, at least. The poor guy must have cried himself out- Rus was tired from just watching it, he couldn’t imagine how exhausted poor Red must have been. 

As cute as it was, and as warm as it made his heart, Rus really would like to use his hands. He eased Red onto his lap, trying not to jostle him, but the movement was enough to rouse the bitty from his sleep. He blinked up at the human, a flash of fear in his eyes.

“Shh, you’re okay, just moving you to my lap,” Rus said at once, drawing his right hand away but leaving his left to rest atop the bitty. “You can go back to sleep, bud.”

“O-On… your lap?” Red said, before his mouth opened wide in a yawn. God, his voice- so quiet and rough, like it hadn’t been used in years. 

“Wherever you want, little dude.”

Red touched one of Rus’s fingers, so small and gentle. Seemed like he was too shy to make eye contact again.

He was out in moments, too tired to do much more than snuggle into the warmth of the human’s palm. Stan was looking down at him with affectionate eyes, and he had to reach up and wipe a tear away before he leaned against his younger brother.

“That was rough,” Rus said quietly, not wanting to wake the bitty.

“It’s progress… hopefully after this, he’ll open up more.” Stan sighed. “Goodness, his little voice… why didn’t he talk to us before this? I didn’t even think he could…”

“You heard him, bro- he was scared,” Rus said. His heart ached. “God, he must have been terrified. No wonder he cried at breakfast.”

Stan sniffled. “He’s probably  _ still _ scared… what if he thought he wasn’t supposed to talk?”

“Could be,” Rus mused, rubbing Red’s skull with his thumb. The bitty snuggled closer still, grabbing weak fistfuls of Rus’s pants. 

“Should we find somebody to look at him? Like a doctor?” Stan pulled away from his brother and reached over to the arm of the couch to grab his cell phone. “Do they even have stuff like that for bitties?”

“I dunno, bro, better look it up.”

Stan clicked away on his phone, but his face was fallen. “I don’t know if we can afford it, even if they do…” Tears began to gather at his eyes again. “I just.. Want to do the best we can for him, he deserves that, after everything he’s been through…”

Rus used his free hand to reach over pull his brother into a side hug. “Even if we can’t afford it, we’re giving him more than his other owners ever did. He needs a steady home, with people he can trust- and that’s just what we’ll give him, right?”

“Of course!” Stan said, his usual enthusiasm muted by the subject and the sleeping bitty. “Of course, I want him to feel safe and happy here… he’s still afraid we’ll send him back to the store…”

“Course he is, that’s what everybody else did,” Rus reassured his brother. “But we’re not gonna do that- he’s had a shit life, we both had pretty shit lives, so maybe this was like… destiny? We understand what it’s like, when people you’re supposed to trust turn around and hurt you… so maybe we can help him through all the stuff he’s been through.”

Stan hugged his brother, gently, so not to wake Red. “That’s so corny, Rus! I love it,” Stan said, planting a chaste kiss on the side of his brother’s head. 

Red made a tiny noise in his sleep. The brothers both looked down at their newest little responsibility and smiled.

 

It took Red a day or so to recharge from his episode and subsequent fit. Luckily, although Stan worked on Monday, Rus was free until the end of the week, so he could stay home with the little guy and make sure he was okay.

He stayed in his cage a lot, but when Rus offered, the bitty took to accompanying the human on the couch while he watched TV or browsed the internet. He mostly slept- which Rus couldn’t blame him for in the slightest- but on occasion the human did look down to find the skeleton watching along, eyes wide, as though he’d never watched TV before. Rus thought, sadly, that might have been true.

He was resting against Rus’s thigh while the human played a game on his phone. It was Monday afternoon- the apartment was quiet, the streets outside busy and bustling like usual, but it all felt distant. Rus felt little hands tighten in the fabric of his basketball shorts just a moment before he heard the squeaky little voice.

“U-Uhm… am I… allowed t-to talk?” he asked. Rus blinked and looked down at once, but Red was staring at his leg.

“Yeah- of course you are, lil dude. You can talk all you want.” he replied. Red nestled his face into his clothes again. Rus locked his phone and set it aside to put his hand against the bitty.

“I, uhm…” Red glanced up at Rus for only a moment before averting his gaze again. “I’m not… good at talking,” he said. 

Rus frowned. “What do you mean?”

Red whined just a little bit. Rus rubbed his back, but decided not to press it.

“Hey- that’s okay, Red. You don’t have to be good at talking- but you’re still allowed to do it. Me ‘n Stan would love it if you talked to us. We wanna know how you’re feeling, and what we can do to make you feel better.”

“I… I uhm…” Red stuttered, but he stopped as his tiny frame started shaking. He was just so small- it felt like some kid’s toy, vibrating in his hand. It took Red a while to compose himself, but when he spoke again his voice trembled and he stumbled over his words. 

“I don’t… I-I don’t want to bo… bother you,” he managed to say. It came out muffled, his face still pressed into Rus’s pants, but the human made it out alright.

“Aw, little dude… you won’t bother us. I promise.”

“I… last time… I bo- bothered them-” he sniffled, hunching his little back as he started crying. “Th-they took me… back.” He raised his little head, flushed red with magic from the tears, and cried. “I don’t… I-I don’t want to g-go back again.”

If hearts could burst, Rus’s would have by that point. He gently, so very gently, scooped Red up and held him close to his chest, hoping to impart some form of comfort to the sad little thing.

“You’re not going back,” Rus said, staring off at the window and the hazy afternoon sun. “I promise, yeah? No matter what, you’re gonna stay right here.”

“I-I… m’ scared…” he mumbled. “M’ scared, m-mister.”

Rus held him a little tighter. “I know… it’s okay to be scared, I understand,” he said, rubbing reassuring fingers along the bitty’s shuddering spine, the white of his bone standing out sharply against Rus’s dark skin. “But you’re safe here. You’re gonna be fine. No more getting hurt, or getting punished, or anything like that.” Rus looked down at the little thing and his dirty clothes and oversized shorts. “You can call me Rus, little guy.”

“R… Rus,” Red repeated with a hiccup. “R-Rus.”

Rus couldn’t help but smile. “That’s me.”

Red stayed quiet for a little while. Rus continued to rub him, trying his hardest to make him feel comfortable. He looked back out the window, listened to the traffic in the streets below. 

He was drawn out his thoughts as Red tapped his chest. He looked down and saw that tiny face, the good eye wide, cheekbones flushed with crimson magic.

“U-Uhm… R-Rus?”

“What’s up?”

“C-Can… can I, uhm…” he looked away. “W-Would it be… okay… if I, uhm, if I… w-went back to the cage, and, and… and maybe t-took a nap…?”

“Of course- yeah, that’s more than okay.” Rus stood up slowly and walked over to fixture, gently depositing Red on the top floor near his bed. “I’m gonna go back to the couch and play some games, but the bottom doors are open,” Rus said, reaching forward and giving his skull one last soft pat. “You just holler if you need anything else, okay?”

Red, standing there, looking so small and fragile, nodded. He shuffled his feet for a moment, hands tucked into the front of his shorts, before he hiccuped again.

“Th-th-thank you, Ru-Rus,” he stammered. 

“No problem, little guy,” the human said softly.

The bitty napped until Stan got home.


	7. Chapter 7

“So… I don’t think there are doctors for bitties,” Stan said dejectedly.

Rus lazed back on his brother’s bed, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars Stan had put on the ceiling. “That’s no good…”

Stan tapped away at his laptop. “There are vets for physical damage, like broken legs or cracked skulls, but… nothing for mental health,” he said. Stan sighed. “Unfortunately, we can’t even afford the ones they  _ do _ have. Just a check up is in the thousands.”

“Double no good,” Rus agreed. It was late, and Red had already gone to sleep, tucked into his little cushion bed with some snacks and a goodnight kiss from Stan.

“I guess all we can give him is time.” Stan fell back on the mattress and joined his brother in faux star-gazing. 

“We should pretty up his cage, too,” Rus added, reaching over and papping his brother in the face. “Maybe take him to town, let him pick some stuff out from the craft store. That wouldn’t be too expensive, right?”

“With all the money you saved buying him instead of another bitty, we could build him a DIY castle!” Stan said, splaying out his arms and smiling at the idea. Rus snorted at his brother before Stan rested his hands on his belly. “Do you think he’d be okay in public like that?”

“Guess we can ask him tomorrow, if not we can just show him pictures and see what he’d like. Find out his aesthetic.”

“He needs new clothes, too,” Stan said. “I know bitties aren’t so…  _ fluid-ful _ as humans, but he has been wearing his current outfit for who even knows how long.”

“He’s a stinky boy,” Rus said with a smile. “Lil Stinker.”

Stan giggled. “Maybe we can get him shorts with pockets, so he doesn’t have to tuck them in the front all the time.”

“Did I tell you that I thought he was masturbating, when I saw him doing that at the store?”

Stan turned over on the bed and thumped his brother’s chest. “Russel!”

Rus snickered and pushed his brother away. “Okay, c’mon, you know it kind of looks like it.”

Stan shook his head, his mohawk bouncing, unkempt after the day’s happenings. “You’ve just got your mind permanently stuck in the gutter. Maybe his hands are cold! I do that, too, when my fingers get chilly.”

“What, masturbate?” 

Rus knew the thump was coming but did nothing to stop Stan’s hand from hitting his chest. He laughed, rolling over so he was almost on top of his brother.

“I’m joking, jeez, I know what you mean.”

Stan shoved Russel away with a huff, but Rus knew that face. He wanted to laugh, but his pride wouldn’t break to allow it. 

They sat in silence for a moment, Rus idly smiling up at the ceiling. 

“I mean, masturbating would warm you up-”

“Russel!”

 

 

Tuesday morning rolled around, and the brothers decided to switch up the breakfast routine. Russel popped the coffee into brew and went to get Red before Stan started cooking.

The bitty was still sleeping. Rus took a moment to look at him and notice how peaceful he looked in his sleep- so very different from when he was awake. He frowned at the sad thought.

“Hey, lil dude, time to get up,” Rus said quietly, crouching down to be on-level with the bitty.

Red’s eye cracked open, and it took him a moment to find his bearings. As soon as he saw Rus, he squeaked and jerked away, an unhealthy dose of fear crossing his face. 

“Shh, s’okay, just me,” Rus reassured. Red’s bones rattled against the cardboard on the bottom of the cage, but it only took him a few moments to calm down. A few stray tears gathered at the socket of his bulgy eye, but he wiped them away. 

“I-It’s… uhm…” Red began, but he grabbed his arm and looked away. His oversized jacket pooled around him as he stood, shaking. He took a shuddering breath before going on: “is… i-is bre’fast d-done?”

Rus shook his head. “Nope, thought we’d switch it up today- you wanna come help us decide what to make?”

Red blinked at him, scrubbing the sleep from his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. “U-Uhm… uhm…”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but me ‘n Stan thought it’d be nice for you to pick your own food sometime.” Rus opened the top doors of the cage and reached into rub the top of his skull. “Whaddaya think?”

Red clicked his teeth together for a second and shuffled his feet. 

“U-Uhm… mm.” he mumbled with a nod. 

Rus smiled. “That’s awesome, lil dude. I’m gonna pick you up, okay?”

Another nod and he was in Rus’s hands, being carried to the kitchen. Stan was seated at the table, sipping his coffee. He paused when his brother and their bitty entered and gave Red a big smile.

“Good morning, sleepy head!” Stan greeted, beaming. 

Rus sat the skeleton down at his little area, and he promptly sat on the chair they had for him. He grabbed the edges and looked away for a moment.

“Good… g-good morning,” Red said softly. He blushed with red magic and glanced up at Stan. “Uhm… g-good morning, mister,” he said again, as though the first time wasn’t good enough.

Stan’s smile widened. “Aw, no need to be so formal- you can call me Stan!”

Red nodded at once. “S-Sorry, sorry… St-Stan,” he amended, peaking up at the elder human.

“No need to be sorry,” Stan said softly, reaching over and tapping Red’s chest. “You’re still figuring all of this stuff out, you’re allowed to make mistakes and ask questions.” Stan gave the bitty an affectionate smile. “How are you feeling this morning?”

Stan’s words seemed to put the bitty at ease, at least for now. He swung his legs a bit. “U-Uhm, I’m o-okay, mi- uhm, S-Stan,” he stammered, before swallowing hard. 

“Did you sleep alright?” Stan went on. Red stammered out an answer, unsure of himself but seemingly alright with being made conversation with. Rus leaned his chin on his palm and listened. Red’s words came out too fast, or too slow, or with a strange stagger. He had trouble with longer words, Rus noted. If he hadn’t been allowed to talk before, it made sense his speech would be a bit delayed in development. Rus let his mind drift, wondering if maybe the talking problems were a result of his head trauma.

“Rus?” Stan asked, snapping the younger out of his focus.

“Huh?”

Stan giggled. “What planet were you on just now?”

Rus smirked and rolled his eyes. “Jupiter. What’d you ask?”

“I asked if you were ready to help me make breakfast!” he said. Red stared at the two as they bantered, his good eye wide and curious. “Red wants to try blueberry pancakes.”

“Oh man, we haven’t made those in forever,” Rus said. “You bet I’m ready.”

Blueberry pancakes weren’t that hard to make. It did require a quick run to the store down the street though- so Rus was left heating up the skillet and measuring out all of the stuff for the batter.

“You ever had pancakes before?” Rus asked, using a knife to level a cup of flour. Red was sitting on the counter nearby, watching in rapt attention. The bitty shook his head.

“N-No… a-are they go… good?”

“They’re amazing,” Rus affirmed. “They’re sweet and tasty, and you can cover them in butter and syrup to make them even better. And then add blueberries into the mix?” Rus shook his head. “Phew. Absolutely stellar.”

Red nodded along. Rus went back to his cooking, following the recipe exactly for fear that his lackluster cooking skills would ruin everything. 

Russel was preoccupied with pouring milk into a measuring cup when he heard Red squeak.

“U-Uhm… a-are… a-are you and St-Stan… brothers?” 

Rus paused what he was doing and looked down at Red, who was once again sheepishly averting his eyes. 

“We sure are. He’s older by a few years, but we’re bros.”

“O-Older?” Red squeaked.

Rus went back to his preparations. “Yup. I’m twenty, Stan is twenty four. I’m the baby brother.” Rus smiled as he finished measuring the milk and glanced over at Red. “I guess  _ you’re _ the baby now, though. How old even are you, bud?”

Red looked away, hands twined together and fidgeting. “I, u-uh… I-I dunno.”

Rus started mixing the batter together, but took a moment to reach over and boop Red’s skull. “Well, maybe when Stan gets back and we’re all full of pancakes, we can try to figure it out. Bitties grow up way different than us humans.”

Red nodded. He looked like an ingredient for the pancakes, sitting on the counter and being as tiny as he was. Rus thought about how funny it would be if he accidentally threw him in the batter, but decided the resulting mess would negate all the humor from it. 

His thought process of Red-pancakes was disrupted as he heard the familiar noise of keys jingling in the door. Stan burst in a moment later, holding up a plastic bag.

“Blueberries ahoy!” he announced, kicking off his shoes and hurrying over. He took them from their plastic bag prison and sat them down on the counter beside Red.

“They any good?” Rus asked as his brother grabbed a couple and popped them in his mouth.

“They’re  _ blue-ly _ delicious,” Stan said, then giggled at himself. Rus smirked at his awful pun as Red watched from the counter. Stan reached down and rubbed his skull with an affectionate smile on his face. 

“You wanna try one, Red?”

The bitty nodded and held out his tiny hands. Rus suppressed a giggle at the adorable gesture as his brother took out a blueberry and put it into Red’s waiting palms. The scale was hilarious- the berry looked absolutely massive against his little skeleton frame.

To be fair, giving him a blueberry might not have been the best idea. Both brothers went back to their tasks, thinking nothing of giving the skeleton a bit of food to eat. Stan was already pouring the first pancake onto the skillet by the time either of them looked at the bitty.

He was covered in blueberry-innards. Rus slapped a hand over his face to stop from grinning, which caught Stan’s attention. 

The little thing had blueberry all over his face, his hands, even his clothes, somehow. He looked up at Rus with big eyes, holding out his arms to either side to avoid the  _ sticky _ situation. 

“U-Uhm, I… S-Sorry,” he tittered, a red blush across his itty-bitty face. Rus was still attempting to stifle his laughter as Stan frowned.

“Ah, that’s okay, Red... how about you go with Rus and get cleaned up, and I’ll have the pancakes ready when you’re done?”

Red nodded, face relaxing as he realized he wasn’t in trouble. Rus chortled as he reached over and picked up the sticky mess of a bitty- god, how had he even managed to get this messy from a single blueberry?

Well, a bath had been on the to-do list for a number of days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will obviously be the chapter this little stinker gets a much-needed bath. thank u all for reading <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning*   
> talk of serious injury and self harm
> 
> thanks to grumbledork for giving this a good once-over <3 also! you-dirty-brother-killer, who made the Red that this boy is based on, made an ask blog for him and swap pap!! you should definitely go check it out [here!](https://its-the-bees-knees.tumblr.com/)

Rus carried his bitty into the bathroom. Red was a sticky mess, but it wasn’t difficult to figure out why- he  _ did _ have some pretty sharp chompers, it’d be like eating an apple with vampire fangs… the juice would absolutely go everywhere. 

Bathing bitties was one of those activities that didn’t require any special set up. Rus had read all about it before purchasing Red- he’d been meaning to wash the stinker, but hadn’t wanted to disturb him in case he’d had bad experiences with baths before. Come to think of it…

“Hey, bud?” Rus asked, gently setting his hand on the bathroom counter and allowing Red to step off. The bitty stared up at him as he shuffled his feet.

“Y-Yeah?”

“You okay with me giving you a bath? I don’t want to make you upset or nothin’ if you’d rather do it yourself.”

Red played with his hands. “Uhm, n-no, it’s fine… baths a-are… mm… nice.” He rubbed his arm. Rus got the feeling he was maybe not one hundred percent okay, but he really  _ did _ need a bath...

Rus reached down and rubbed his skull. “Alright, little dude. I’ll get some warm water goin’ for ya, you just relax for now, okay?”

Red nodded and took a hesitant seat, looking to the human for permission before fully lowering himself to the countertop. Rus scurried out of the room, back to the kitchen, where Stan was still in the process of making pancakes. His brother gave him a look as he went digging in the cupboards.

“How’s he doing?” Stan questioned. 

“Says he’s fine with baths, which is great,” Rus murmured as he pulled out some plastic containers. Too deep, too shallow, ew, that one was a little stained…

“Try the baking cupboard,” Stan suggested, flipping a pancake over, the sizzling sound pleasant to the ears. “I keep the good ones in there.”

After upturning a muffin pan and a couple of well-loved mixing bowls, Rus found a suitable container for Red’s bath. Rus gave his brother a noogie as he went by again, taking a big inhale of the delicious pancake-smell.

“Thanks, bro,” Rus said. Stan slapped him away with his spatula with a noise of indignance, but as Rus returned to the bathroom he heard the other give an amused sigh. 

Red was where he’d been left, sitting, staring around at the bathroom. Rus greeted him with a wave and plopped the container in the sink, turning on the water. Red watched with wide, nervous eyes.

His anxiety seemed to get the better of him as the water heated up and the container was filled. Rus watched from the corner of his eye as Red shifted, clacking his little teeth together and wringing his hands. 

“You okay, bud?” Rus asked. The water was warm, but not hot- he set the makeshift bath beside the bitty and reached for the soap.

“I-I… uh…” he swallowed and glanced up at the human. “I’ve n-never, uh… d-done it myself.”

“Taken a bath?” Rus asked.

Red nodded. He looked a little embarrassed, which Rus set out to remedy as soon as possible.

“I’ll help, little dude- a lot of bitties like getting help with baths, it’s pretty normal,” he reassured, reaching over with his dry hand and rubbing Red’s skull. “We’ll get you all squeaky clean.”

Red nodded, still a little flush, as Rus swished the water around and got it all soapy. He figured he’d just run the bitty under the faucet when he was done, to get all the suds off- that seemed like the best way to go about it, seeing as they didn’t have a fancy bitty shower.

“I’ll get a towel for ya, okay? Go ahead and take your clothes off and get in if you want to.”

Rus waited to see Red nod in agreement before he turned and started rooting through the cupboards. It took him a while- the bathroom wasn’t exactly spacious, but most of their small washcloths were… less than pristine. Grimy, one might say. 

He spent a good minute looking for the cleanest and softest one he could find, a blue cloth that had probably never been used, before he turned around and saw Red standing on the counter, naked.

His heart went still for a moment. His fist tightened around the washcloth in his hand.

He was  _ covered _ in scars. His legs, which had been all but hidden by his socks and long shorts, were cut up to hell, and the rest of him wasn’t much better. Some ribs were cracked, some seemed to be missing chips, Rus’s eyes went wide as he got to the pelvis and saw parts of it were flat-out  _ missing.  _ The front- the ischium, his clouded mind placed- was  _ gone _ . 

Rus couldn’t move. He just stood, staring at the little bitty in horror. Red had his eyes averted, so he just shuffled his feet. It looked so awful- how had Rus not noticed the pelvis? All of the wounds? His mouth went dry.

“I-I, uhm, c-couldn’t get in by myself-” Red said, before he chanced a look up and saw Rus. He blinked and shrank away from the look the human was wearing.

“Wh-what? What- what’s wrong?” he squeaked, scampering back and shoving his little body into the corner. “D-Did- did- I-I do something wro-ong?” 

Rus tried to say something, to maybe reassure him, but he felt like a boulder had settled in his chest. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the scars- all over his thighs- and his forearms- right where… right where…

“R...Rus? Wh-what did- what d-did I do?” Red whined, tears beginning to form in his eyes. He started to curl up, looking infinitely more miniscule now that he was naked. He had such a pleading look. “I-I-I’m sorry- I d- I didn’t mean-”

All over. They were just- everywhere. Were they recent? Had he been doing this to himself while he was in the apartment? Is that what he’d been doing in the kitchen that night? Rus’s mind wouldn’t stop to let him think anything through.

“I-I’m sorry- m’ sorry-” Red cried. “D-D-Don’t be- please- d-don’t be mad- I’m sorry ‘m ugly- I d-don’t know what I did-” Red’s volume rose along with the pitch of his voice as he got more worked up.

Rus knew he had to do something, just  _ move _ , anything at all, but his ears were ringing and he just… couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

“Russel? Red? Is everything alright in there?” 

Stan’s voice drew the human from his moment. The door to the bathroom was open- Stan peaked around and saw Rus standing there. His face fell.

“Rus?”

He couldn’t- he couldn’t stand to look at Red, not like this, not with- all of the scars. Rus bolted for the door before his brother could stop him, pushing past him and his worried look and darting for his bedroom. His mind was buzzing with thoughts he didn’t want to be thinking about, he knew he should have been there for Red but he just- 

He slammed the door shut, locked it, and fell back. The way the wood rubbed his back as he slid to the ground did nothing to pull him from his horror. 

He hid his face in his hands. He couldn’t. He just- he fucking couldn’t. He tried to still his shaking, hands rubbing up and down his thighs, fingers digging through his pajama pants to feel the scars beneath.

He put his head between his knees and cried.

  
  


 

Stan saw Rus run to his room and he knew something was wrong- he spotted Red near the sink, curled up in the corner, naked and rattling against the countertop.

Oh jeez. Stan took in the wounds and the disfigurement as quickly as he could, shaking himself from his brief horror. He hurried forward and gathered the pitiful little guy up in his hands, reaching for the towel Rus had dropped and wrapping the bitty up in it. It didn’t take long for him to piece together what had happened- Rus had probably seen the wounds and assumed the worst.

“I’m s-orry- m’sorry- I don’t- I didn’t-” Red gasped, barely getting the words out around his blubbering tears. He curled up into the warmth of the washcloth and sobbed.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, everything’s fine,” Stan said at once, moving over and taking a seat on the edge of the tub. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“B-But- he- he looked-” Red broke off with a whine. “I-I-It’s my fault- I’m s-so ugly-”

“Aw, honey, that’s not it at all,” Stan soothed, running his fingers over the bitty. “You’re not ugly- you just… you’ve got a lot of scars, and Rus has… some bad experiences with these things.”

Red sniffled. “M’sorry…”

“It’s okay- I promise, it isn’t your fault,” Stan reassured. “But, Red… why didn’t you tell us you were hurt so badly?”

Red wiggled a hand free to wipe the tears from his face. “S-sorry… I’m s-sorry… I didn’t…” His voice broke- “I d-didn’t want you… t’know ‘m so ugly…”

Stan’s heart broke. He leaned down and kissed Red’s skull.

“Aw, buddy… even if you were ugly, it wouldn’t matter. You being happy and healthy is all that we care about.”

Red seemed to process the words. He didn’t stop shaking. Stan held him and gave him as much positive physical contact as he dared, thumbing his back and leaning down to give him gentle kisses every couple of minutes. 

If Stan had known Red was this injured, he would have insisted on being the one to bathe him. It was morbid, but he was used to these types of things. Maybe not to this extent- gosh, Red’s poor pelvis- but when Rus had been younger… Stan had taken the time to look and to realize that none of Red’s wounds were recent- and, given their size, severity, and placement, it wasn’t likely they’d been from self harming. He’d only gotten a short look, but from all the research and studying he’d done during Rus’s truly low period, it was enough. 

It was still troubling to see him so badly hurt, and to imagine all the pain he’d been through. But Stan had to be sure.

“Red? Can I ask you a question?” Stan asked softly. “I promise you’re not in trouble, I’m just worried about you.”

Red’s shaking had nearly died down by that point. He looked up at the human and nodded.

“Did you give yourself any of those scars?” 

Red flinched. His good eye was averted immediately.

“N-n-no- no- i-it was… it was the bad guy,” he said. The mention of his first owner was clearly upsetting, so Stan decided to steer away from the topic.

“Okay- you don’t have to talk about it right now, I know it probably hurts to think about. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t hurting yourself.”

Red was quiet for a second. He was so small in Stan’s hands- the older brother felt him shifting around like a newborn kitten. A minute of silence passed before Red spoke.

“Is… i-is Rus o-okay?” 

Stan let out a breath. He’d hoped that maybe Rus would return by now, but he knew to give his brother space. No doubt the event had been triggering, but Stan knew intervention would just make it worse. So he did what he could with Red.

“He will be. I don’t think he was expecting you to be as beat up as you are.”

“D-Did… uhm...  i-is it my fault he’s u-upset?” Red asked. He wiped the tears from his miniscule skull, goodness his hands were so tiny. Curled up against Stan’s chest, the bitty looked to vulnerable.

Stan shook his head. “It’s not your fault… Rus is, ah…” Stan thought of the best way to put it. “Rus has some scars that are very similar to the ones on your thighs,” Stan said gently. “And there were some… very unpleasant things that happened, and seeing those scars on other people without being prepared can make him very upset.”

“O-Oh…” Red said. “Di-id somebody h-hurt him?”

Stan frowned. He held Red a little tighter. 

“No… he hurt himself.” Stan rested his hand against Red’s back. “He was in a very, very bad place, and some of the people in his life who were supposed to care about him…. Didn’t.” Stan felt a very familiar ache in his chest. 

Red was quiet. Stan tried to push away all the awful memories. Rus joked about it now, but what their parents had put him through was abuse- there was no sugar coating it. They’d mentally abused him for years, shown him no sympathy, mocked him for self harming, until-

Stan felt tears gathering in his eyes. He balanced Red in one hand to wipe them away, which the bitty noticed.

“M’sorry- I- did I make you u-upset too?” Red panicked.

Stan smiled. “No, no, it’s okay,” he said. “It’s okay… Rus will be okay.” He readjusted Red, and the skeleton wiggled around again to find the best position in his washcloth burrito. “All that stuff was a long time ago! I just wanted you to know why he got upset, so you know that it wasn’t your fault.”

Red snuggled close. The two sat for a moment.

The smell of burnt  _ something _ drifted into the bathroom.

“Oh my god, the pancakes!”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: mention of a suicide attempt and a general depressing chapter, be safe my dudes
> 
> also @grumbledork thank u for beta-ing, u r the best mwuah, even tho you leave comments telling me to go fuck myself <3

Only one of the pancakes had been burned beyond saving- with Red in tow, Stan scraped the blackened and stinking remains of a once-great blueberry beauty into the trash can. 

Red’s nerves were starting to settle. He wrapped himself tightly in his washcloth while Stan put foil over the cakes, to keep them warm, and went about washing Red’s clothes. He handed the bitty a wet wipe to scrub himself with- the rest could be put off until later. 

The great thing about Red’s clothes being so tiny was that it only took Stan a few minutes of blasting them with the hair dryer to get them dry and toasty. It worked out well- Red managed to get all his stickiness off in the time it took to get his clothes in wearable condition.

Stan handed the bitty his things. Red seemed surprised to find that they were heated- he blinked up at Stan.

“Th.. They’re all warm,” Red said. Stan smiled.

“Fresh off the hair dryer,” he said, booping Red’s skull. “Want some help getting dressed?”

Although the atmosphere was still a bit melancholy, Stan had to admit that seeing Red’s awestruck expression upon being put into fresh clothes was heartwarming. He helped Red into his shorts- eyes falling sadly to his broken pelvis- his stained red shirt, and eventually his big fluffy jacket. The bitty stood on the counter, hugging himself, eyes closed as he took in the feeling.

“I-It’s so… so nice,” he said softly.

Stan eased the bitty into his hand, waiting for a nod of permission, and took him to the table with the pancakes. 

“Haven’t you ever had your clothes washed before?” Stan asked. Red rubbed his arm through his coat. 

“Uh huh, but… they were n-never warm.”

Stan went about getting Red’s tiny, tiny little pancakes all dressed up with syrup and a bit of butter. Red watched him raptly. The human had to be quick about it- lest the syrup soak into the pancake and turn it from a buttery piece of heaven to a soggy disappointment-disc.

It was absolutely too cute to watch Red slice them up with the miniscule fork the brothers had bought him. Throughout his residency, Stan had taught him how to use silverware, and which foods to eat with them, and which were okay to pluck with your bare hands like a savage. Rus was much more lenient with this policy, so Stan handled the table manners.

Red took the first bite. He made a little squeak of delight before plowing into his cakes. Stan regarded him with a soft, affectionate smile before picking up his phone and texting his brother.

**_Are you okay, Rus?_ **

The response was almost immediate. Stan was well aware his brother was more comfortable writing his feelings than verbally speaking them when he got like this.

_ is red okay _

**_Red’s fine, don’t worry. I got him cleaned up, he’s having a blast with the pancakes right now. I’m more worried about you, brother._ **

_ i didnt think hed be that bad _

**_Neither did I. I asked him, to be sure, and the scars aren’t from self harming. It was his first owner._ **

_ god im so fuckin stupid _

**_You’re not stupid. You had a perfectly valid reaction to the situation- I completely understand. Red does, too. He’s worried about you._ **

_ i shouldve asked and not just assumed and ran away like a fuckin baby _

**_Russel._ **

_ i know, i just… i feel so bad. hes had it so much worse than me, ive got no right to just abandon him like that. fuck _

**_It isn’t a competition, brother. You can’t become healthy overnight just because somebody less healthy came along. If anything, I think it really helps Red to know that he has something in common with you._ **

Stan’s message went without an immediate reply. He sat his phone down, face up so he could see any new messages, and went to make himself a plate of pancakes. Red was still working on his- the bitties face was once again a sticky mess, but it wasn’t anything a wet wipe couldn’t fix. 

Red was getting his cleanup, his shirt a bit wet where Stan had wiped blueberry-juice from it, when the human’s phone went off. He finished by gently wiping off Red’s fingers before setting the cloth aside and picking up his phone. It was from Rus.

_ can you come in _

Stan let out a breath. He should have been used to this by now, but every time his brother would get low, or triggered, or just sad in general, he’d always timidly text his older brother to come and comfort him. It made Stan’s heart ache, to see his baby brother so distraught.

**_I’ll be right in. Do you want me to bring Red?_ **

_ i dont want him to see me like this _

**_Okay. I’ll get him situated in his cage, then I’ll be in._ **

_ thanks bro _

 

 

The door was still closed tight when Stan knocked on it. There was no response, so he eased it open and slipped inside. The sight that awaited him made a pang of sadness go through him.

Rus was curled up and leaning against the headboard of his bed, hugging a pillow to himself. The light was off, but the lamp beside him threw enough light for Stan to see his brother’s puffy, tired eyes. He glanced over at Stan, lower face hidden by the pillow, but quickly looked away.

It was usually like this. Stan went over and sat down next to his brother, keeping a few inches distance between them.

“Hey, bro,” Stan said softly. 

Russel’s resolve to stay strong broke at the sound of Stan’s voice. He leaned over and rested his head on Stan’s shoulder with a sniffle.

No matter how many times this happened, it never got any easier to witness. Stan reached his arms around his sibling and pulled him into a hug, Rus’s longer legs laying over his own and his head buried in his chest.

“I’ve got you,” Stan whispered. He rubbed Russel’s back in soothing circles, trying to will all of his love for his brother into his movement and voice. He wished he could take it all away- he wished his hugs could make Russel better, maybe take away even an inch of his trauma, but he knew that wasn’t how it worked. And it hurt. It hurt so much.

Rus didn’t say anything for a long while, just nestled himself close to his brother and sniffled. Stan didn’t expect anything different. His brother always went nonverbal in situations like this. Five minutes, maybe more, passed by with only the quiet noise of Russel’s shaky breaths to be heard. 

Stan knew what Rus was seeing, what his mind wasn’t letting him forget. It was nearly three years ago now, and the older brother still remembered every detail clear as day. He’d been the one to find Rus, after all. Lying on the bathroom floor, thighs sliced open countless times, blood just... everywhere. Stan hugged Rus a little tighter as the image flashed through his mind. 

“M’sorry,” Rus finally mumbled, low and quiet. 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” Stan reassured. He patted Rus’s hair, leaning his head down to kiss the top of his head.

“I didn’t even think…” Rus went on in a voice thick with tears. “I didn’t think about who’d… find me.”

“It’s okay,” Stan said, trying to will the wetness out of his own voice. “You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”

Rus went quiet- as quiet as somebody who was crying could be. He kept sniffling, sad little noises making their way out every once in awhile.

“Red’s okay?” Rus asked after a few minutes of silent tears. Stan wiped his own away and composed himself before he answered.

“Red’s fine, I promise. He’s in his cage right now, probably still enjoying his warm clothes. He really liked the pancakes.”

Rus let out a breath. “I… I don’t know if… if I’m fit to take care of him.” He hid his face in Stan’s shirt. “I hate making you pick up the slack…”

“Nonsense, brother, I  _ want _ to help care for him. I love the little thing to bits.” Stan sighed. “And besides- you’re doing a wonderful job caring for him. Sure, there might be a few hiccups, but… that’s to be expected.”

Rus squeezed his brother one final time before leaving the embrace. Stan saw the fresh tear tracks before he wiped them away. He looked so dejected- his usual lazy smile was nowhere to be found. He looked at Stan for a moment before resuming his position against his side, leaning into his brother’s warmth. It was reassuring to feel him so close. It put all of Stan’s fears at ease- all of the awful images from the nightmares of waking up and finding Russel just… gone.

“Thanks, bro,” Russel said, wiping the tears and snot away one final time. His shaking was calming. 

“Of course.” Stan turned his head and gave his little brother another kiss into his messy hair. “I love you, brother.”

“I love you too,” Rus said at once.

They sat for a while. It felt good to just be in one another’s presence, in the dim room, secluded from the rest of the world. Stan pushed all his thoughts of a life without Russel away- he wouldn’t think about the what-if’s.

His brother was here, he was alive, and he was healing. Stan could never ask for anything more.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: talk and description of self harm scars

It took Rus a while to calm down. Stan stayed with him the whole time, lending him a shoulder to lean on and comforting words of reassurance. 

He knew he had to go apologize to Red- the poor guy didn’t deserve what had happened, it was only right that Russel make it up to him, but god was it hard. He just wanted to curl up and sleep, he was exhausted.

“Are you ready to see Red? He’s worried about you,” Stan said gently, running a hand over his brother’s hair. 

“This must happen more than I think… you know the routine better than I do,” Rus said with a bitter little smirk. “Sorry…”

Stan hugged him before standing up from the mattress and streching. “There’s no need to apologize, brother,” he said gently, popping his joints with a relieved sigh. “I’m always here for you if you need me, and I know you’d do the same.”

Rus followed his brother’s lead, standing and stretching a little to wake himself up. “Yeah… but I’m always the one that needs help.”

Stan reached over and noogied Rus’s messy hair. “You help me every day, brother.” Stan’s expression became wistful. “You’re one of the only people that actually respect me for who I am- you came with me when I moved out- you’re always looking out for me,” Stan said, counting on his fingers as he listed things off. 

“That stuff’s all just… basic human decency,” Rus said, but he was blushing.

“Well, if I didn’t help my little brother, I wouldn’t be a decent human being, I don’t think.”

Rus couldn’t argue with that. He rubbed his arm- Stan always knew how to make him feel better. He gave his brother a little half-smile to show his gratitude, and Stan returned it in full. 

Russel followed him out of the dimly lit bedroom and back out into the kitchen. He took a few deep breaths- the smell of pancakes wafted over, but he wasn’t very hungry after everything that had happened. Stan sat down at the table and started messing with his phone.

“I’m gonna go talk to Red,” Rus said after a long minute of trying to just breathe. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” 

“No, I’m… I’m okay. I feel like I should do this alone, y’know?”

Stan nodded. “Don’t beat yourself up- he’ll understand.”

The younger brother made a noise of agreement, trying to repeat the sentence and make himself believe it. 

Rus crept quietly into the living room, hoping that maybe Red was sleeping, so he could put this off. All of his other options for procrastination had already been done by Stan- the kitchen was spotless, the living room was tidy, everything was in order and as it should be. Except for the one thing Rus was really nervous about righting.

Red was on his little cushion bed, but he wasn’t sleeping. As Rus took a few gentle steps forward, nerves building in his chest, Red’s head jerked up and he caught Russel’s eyes. The little guy looked tired, but not too worse for wear. 

“R-Rus-” he breathed at once, scrambling up and hurrying to the closed cage door to lean against it. The human’s heart beat- that was a reaction he hadn’t been expecting. He stepped forward until he was in front of the cage and slowly opened the door. 

“Hey, bud,” he greeted, reaching up a hand. Red latched onto it immediately and hugged it tight as his bones started rattling.

“M’sorry- m’sorry fer,,, m-making you up-upset-” Red blubbered. Rus gathered him up at once and lifted him from the cage, holding the little guy against him. There was an urgency in his chest to just… help. To make Red okay however he could. 

“It’s okay, Red, it wasn’t your fault,” Rus said softly, running his fingers over Red’s back.

Red grabbed tiny fistfulls of fabric and pressed his face to Rus’s warmth. The human didn’t mind- it reassured him. It was good to know that Red wasn’t holding anything against him. He carefully took the bitty over as he sat on the couch, supporting the little guy with both of his hands.

“I’m sorry, Red,” Russel began. He had to swallow the tremor in his voice. “I… shouldn’t have ran away like I did. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Red looked up at his face and saw the beginning of tears there. His eyes widened in distress.

“N-No- o-oh, don’t cry-” Red whined. “M’sorry, pl-please don’t cry.”

Rus shifted Red into one hand and wiped his eyes. “Sorry, bud, I’m… I’m just a bit of a mess. It’s not your fault.”

Red had tears in his sockets as well. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t know how to articulate it. After a long moment of Russel rubbing his tiny little back, Red collapsed against his chest again and snuggled into his palms.

“A-Are… you o-okay?” the bitty said quietly, words almost lost into Rus’s clothes.

Russel wanted to laugh. Red shouldn’t be worrying about  _ him _ . He composed himself for a second. 

“I wasn’t, but I am now,” he replied after a bit. 

Red was curled up, tucked snug into Rus’s hands. The bigger continued to rub gentle fingers over the skeleton, cooing “you’re alright” to him every now and again. He was shaking like a leaf.

Neither of them really said anything for a long time. It felt good to hold him. It felt really, really good to just hold him, and to know he was there. Sunlight was shining through the window by that time, making everything a little brighter. Rus listened to the noises of the city outside and Red’s quiet, calming breaths. 

It felt like hours before Red squirmed and shifted to look up at Rus’s face.

“U-Uhm… can... “ Red stopped to suck in a shaky breath. “C-Can I, uhm… can I-I see?”

Russel swallowed the lump that immediately formed in his throat. He remembered Stan’s words- this was a similarity that he and Red shared, even if the source of the scars was different between them. He inhaled deeply before he gently eased Red onto the couch cushion beside him. He stood and took off his pajama pants, the boxers underneath still long enough to reach his knees. 

Red watched him with enormous sockets, wringing his hands in worry. Russel took a seat again, careful not to jostle the bitty, and offered one of his hands to him. Red climbed into it immediately, holding onto his thumb for support. 

“Stan told you about how I got them?” Rus asked, free hand on the hem of his boxers. 

The bitty nodded.

Rus let out one final, shaking breath. The only person he’d ever willingly shown his scars to was his brother. They were ugly and deep, and they made Rus feel… not whole. Imperfect. But this was Red, and Red needed to know that  _ he _ wasn’t those things just because of his wounds. 

He pulled up his boxers on his left leg until his whole upper thigh was exposed. Red gasped.

The little ones weren’t bad. They only looked like lines in his skin, as though somebody had taken a white pencil and drawn them in. It was hard to even feel those ones. 

But there were nine deep, ragged scars that marred his skin like chasms. They stood out; Russel could feel them through his pants, they were hard and rough. There were seven more on the other thigh. If it hadn’t been for the stitches, he knew it would look so much worse.

Red stared. It made the human self conscious, but the deed was done. He sat the bitty on the still-clothed thigh and let him look, his own eyes averted to stare out of the window. 

“D-Do… do they h-hurt?” Red said softly. With wide and glistening sockets he looked at all of the wounds. 

“Not anymore,” Rus replied. He looked down at the floor for a second. “Do yours?”

Red shook his head. 

There was a long moment where nothing was said. After it passed, he felt Red shift, and tiny hands grabbed his boxers in an attempt to drag them back down to cover the marks.

Rus made a sad little noise in his throat before he picked Red up once more and slid the fabric back down to cover himself. The bitty was crying. His shoulders shook as he whimpered. 

“It’s okay,” Russel whispered, thumbing his back. “You’re okay, little dude.”

He had no way to know what the bitty was thinking, and Red didn’t seem keen on saying it. That was fine with the human- he didn’t think he could handle a conversation about it in that moment. 

They sat there. The sunlight grew brighter as the day went on. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for this chapter: transphobia, misgendering, and really simplified talk of gender- i don't want to upset anybody!
> 
> this fic has two more sponsored chapters! Sorry it's been so long since I updated, I got a job and have been working on sponsored content, so things have been Hectic,,, oopsiessss

The next couple of days were spent recharging; not just for Red, but for Russel as well. He called off work Wednesday so he could unwind after his little episode and be there for Red if he was needed. The days were spent lazing around the house, the heavy topics going untouched as the two sat around and waited for Stan to get back from work. 

The bitty grew more accustomed to being out of his cage. In the days following the bath-time incident, as Rus was now calling it, he went out more and asked to be put back in less. Russel made him a mini couch out of wrapped up t-shirts and towels that he placed on the coffee table in front of the big “human” couch, but more often than not Red was content to rest in Rus’s lap or in his palms. It was endearing. When Stan came home Wednesday to find Red conked out, cradled against his brother’s chest, his resulting squeal nearly woke the bitty up. 

Saturday morning came soon enough. Russel, Stan, and Red were eating their breakfast as usual when the elder brother snapped his fingers, mouth full of egg.

“Oh! Rus, we should take Red to the craft store so he can pick out decor for his cage!” 

Russel paused with a bite of scrambled egg halfway to his lips. Red did the same, though his eggs were clutched in his palms. The little ruffian.

“Oh, hey, we’ve been meaning to do that,” Russel said, fork clinking against the plate as he sat it down to look at Red. “What do you say, little dude?”

“L-Leave? The h… the house?” He swallowed.

“The apartment,” Stan corrected gently, but then he smiled. “It’ll just be for a while, and Russel and I will be there the whole time. You can pick out some stuff for your cage!”

“Pick out… what?” the confused bitty asked, putting his eggs back down and frowning.

“Like… some paper for your walls ‘n shit like that,” Rus said. Stan reached over and slapped his shoulder.

“Russel! Don’t swear around Red.”

“Why? He’s not a kid.”

The brothers looked at eachother for a moment, and then down at the bitty in question. Red wrung his hands and stared between the two.

“Hey Red, how old are you, anyways?”

The bitty looked visibly uncomfortable. He curled in on himself and rubbed his arm.

“Uhm, I-I… I don’t r-remember…”

“That’s a little concerning,” Stan said, putting his fork down. “Do you forget a lot of things, Red?”

“Uhm, I… I, uh…” Red glanced up at Stan, blushed, and very gently touched the crack that ran down his skull and through his eye socket. 

“Ohh,” Stan breathed, reaching out to comfort the little thing. “Do you have a hard time remembering things before the crack?”

Red nodded shyly. Rus made a sad little noise in his throat, but Stan was already stroking Red’s skull and giving him lots of love.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Red… we’ll have to pick out a birthday for you!”

“A-a… birth-d-day?” he asked.

“Oh, that’s actually a really good idea,” Russel added with a smile. “Maybe it could be the day we adopted you?”

Red’s little eye twinkled. “That was a… a-a good day,” he admitted shyly.

The brother’s smiled.

 

Getting to the actual craft store wasn’t hard. Russel bundled Red up in his clothes and added an extra layer of scarf to make sure the little guy wouldn’t catch cold, and Red seemed content in his burrito, snuggled up under Russel’s chin. 

They took the bus to the nearby mall, Stan leading the way and trying to prevent people from seeing Red. It was common for people to take their bitties out- in fact, on the way, Russel saw somebody with a Muffet bitty perched on their shoulder. The little girl waved at him from her vantage point, and Rus smiled.

“You okay, bud?” Stan asked, leaning forward and rubbing Red’s skull. The bitty had his face pressed to Rus’s shirt, timid, but he was still looking around the bus at all of the strangers. Thankfully he didn’t seem too overwhelmed. He nodded and hid his face in the fabric of the scarf.

The three made it to the craft store without incident, aside from a few curious people asking about the bitty. Stan turned them away with a smile- said Red was shy, which wasn’t false. 

“O-Oh…” Red breathed as you entered the automatic doors, good eye wide and staring at all of the merchandise. Russel smiled and rubbed his skull.

“You ever been to a store like this, little dude?”

“N-No- mm-mm,” he said, shaking his head. He eyed the variety of fake flowers with a bit of wonder in his eye. 

“Oh, oh! First let’s take him to the doll section- they might have some little furniture for him!” Stan exclaimed, rushing into the clean building. There were a few patrons, but none seemed keen on interacting, which Rus was glad for. 

They found Red a table and a chair, and even a proper little bed! The mattress was sadly not up for the task of somebody sleeping on it, but they could easily sew him something much better. Stan was buzzing with excitement at the prospect.

“Oh Red, this is going to be so much fun!” he said happily, booping the bitty’s ‘nose’ as he picked out a few little things for him. 

Red seemed too dazed by the idea of things being bought for him to properly reply. He nodded before his eye went to something sitting up on the top shelf.

“O-Oh…”

Russel lifted his gaze along with Stan as they saw it- an enormous, two story, furnished dollhouse.

“Oh, wow,” Stan breathed. He stared at it for a moment before his eyes went wide and lit up, grabbing his brother’s free hand. “We  _ have _ to get it, Russel! It’s so perfect!”

God, what Rus wouldn’t give. With a heavy heart, he reached up on his tip toes and touched the price tag.

Stan’s face fell at once. “Oh…”

“C-Can we g-get it?” Red asked, still looking up.

“Sorry, bud… it’s, uh, a little out of our price range,” Rus said softly. It hurt to turn Red down, because God the little thing deserved the world, but the thing cost half a month’s rent. 

“Oh, okay,” Red said, but he didn’t seem at all unhappy. He snuggled back in. “That’s o-okay, sir.”

Stan gave Russel the absolute saddest look he could. Rus frowned.

“We’ll just have to save up, won’t we little guy?” Stan amended, petting the top of his skull with a smile. “Soon we’ll be able to pay for it, but for now, let’s go get some paper to put in your house back home!”

Red nodded. Russel supposed that was the good thing, about him coming from nothing- he didn’t expect more than the bare minimum. He should, though. And the brother’s would make sure he knew how much he was worth.

He picked out some pink and red polka-dotted crafting paper, along with a little red flower he seemed enamored with. Their purchase, in total, was almost one hundred dollars, but it was a hundred bucks well spent. Their spending money would be hurting for a while, but that was nothing new.

The person behind the register rung everything up while Stan finished paying with his card. She looked at him with a smile before that damned word slipped out of her mouth.

“Is that all, ma’am?”

Stan froze. Russel bristled, ready to go on the offensive, while Red shifted in his scarf. 

“Ah- y-yes, that’s… that’s all-” Stan began in a small, sad voice. 

“Sir,” Russel corrected. He stared the lady down.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s  _ sir _ ,” Rus said, trying to keep the edge from his voice but failing. Could have been an honest mistake, but by the sound of it...

“Oh, uh… sir,” she said, but a  _ look _ went over her face and she threw Stan a nasty eye that said it all.

Russel glared at her as he hurried Stan out of the store, their things in tow. His brother had all but deflated- like a balloon whose air had escaped. Russel lead him over to a quiet corner of the street and shifted Red so he could give him a hug.

There were tears building in his eyes. No, that wouldn’t do. That absolutely wouldn’t do.

“Hey, bro, don’t listen to that bitch,” he said, pulling away and using his thumb to wipe Stan’s growing tears away. “You see that look she gave you? She did it on purpose.”

“It’s okay… I’m okay,” Stan said softly, sniffling. “It happens.”

Yes, it did. Far, far more often than Rus would ever like it to. He always knew when it happened, too- when Stan would come home from work dragging his feet, or go straight to bed, or leave his binder on for far, far too long. 

Red didn’t say a word, but he saw Stan’s tears. He whimpered and reached out, and Rus held him up so he could lay a soft hand on Stan’s cheek.

They hurried home, Rus’s arm hung over his brother’s shoulder.

The bus ride back was spent in sad silence. Nobody bothered them- they probably looked too melancholy for conversation. Red kept casting confused glances at Stan, and then up at Russel, and then back.

As soon as the door closed, Rus deposited Red on the counter and hugged his brother for all he was worth.

“Russel, I’m  _ fine _ … I promise.”

“I know. Seeing you upset makes me upset.”

Stan laughed a little bit and hugged him back. “I’m used to it, Rus. I’m okay.”

It was still early in the day. Russel led his brother to the couch and sat down, Red in tow. The bitty looked so out of it and lost. He hesitantly clamored over Rus’s lap and up onto Stan's.

“Y-Y-You’re… y-you’re sad,” he said, frowning. “D-Don’t be sad, s-sir.”

Stan laughed, but there wasn’t the usual joy behind it. He sat up from his slouch, careful to ease Red into his lap while Russel sat close beside.

“How’d you know I was a boy?” Stan asked, holding Red close against his bound chest. 

Red looked hopelessly lost. He frowned. “Y-You’re… b-because you are?”

Stan smiled. “Yeah, but I’m… you know. I’m trans.”

“Wh-what’s… trans?”

“It means when he was born, they told him he was a girl,” Russel said when Stan didn’t answer. 

“B-But… why?”

Russel didn’t say anything. It wasn’t his place- he wasn’t the one that had to go through this. He patted his brother’s shoulder, but Red was quickly handed to him as Stan reached around and undid his binder. 

Red seemed confused as Stan took it off and sat it aside. He took Red again and held him against his chest.

“It doesn’t matter, little guy,” Stan said. Maybe someday he could explain, in detail, but he just looked so tired. Russel understood.

Red still seemed confused, but he cuddled against Stan’s boobs and sighed. 

“A-Am… am I-I a boy?”

“You can be whatever you want to be,” Stan said softly. “So if you want to be a boy- then you’re a boy.”

Red snuggled closer while Russel smiled. “I-I want to b-be like… like y-you and R-Rus.”

That was enough to lift some of the sadness in Stan’s eyes. Maybe once Red understood gender more, the topic could be revisited, but for now… he was their little dude.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just to be clear! i'm not a trans man. i ID as trans, but i'm nonbinary, so if anything in here is wrong or i overlooked something, please let me know!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I made an ask blog for the characters in this story!! I'm not sure if anybody is interested, but I'm [askthefuentes](https://askthefuentes.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, follow if you'd like to!
> 
> WARNING: this chapter has some blood and angst in it

It was one of those rare days where Rus actually made it to work. The pharmacy he worked for- as a tech- knew that he was still recovering from depression, so when he called off they didn’t fire him, which was a huge relief. He only worked a couple days a week, so it wasn’t that much of a strain, but it also meant that Stan was the breadwinner for their household with his fancy grocery store management position. 

All that aside, Rus came home, shrugged off his coat, and cupped his hands against his mouth.

“I’m home!”

There was no reply. Rus didn’t think much of it- Stan wouldn’t be home for another three hours, and Red was… well. Red.

Russel made his way to the living room, hoping to find the bitty in his cage, but… it was empty.

“Red?” the human asked, reaching inside and flipping over his cushion and his bed. No skeletons. He looked around the room, under the couch, and in the closet, but there was not a bitty to be seen.

He checked everywhere. The bathroom, the kitchen, under everything he could find, calling for his bitty the whole time, but there was no sign of him. 

“Oh no, Red… Red, where are you, buddy?” 

No response.

Russel whipped out his phone and called Stan at his work number. It was only for emergencies- he could count on one hand how many times he’d dialed it.

_ “Hello, Corner Convenience Groceries, how can I help you?” _

“U-Uhm, hi, is Stan there? Stan Fuente?” Russel asked, nervous, but his panic outweighed his nerves.

_ “Yes, I’ll go and get him right away. Can I have your name, please?” _

“It’s Russel. I’m his brother.”

_ “Oh! Yes, right away, sir.” _

God, if Stan had been talking about him at work again… Russel didn’t have much time to consider it before the phone was being fumbled and Stan’s panicked voice came over the line.

_ “Rus! What’s wrong?” _ Stan knew Russel didn’t interrupt him at work for nothing.

“Red’s gone- I can’t find him in the apartment.”

There was a moment of silence, followed by some hushed whispering between Stan and the assumed person near him.

_ “Thanks, Mary- okay, Rus, I’m heading home now. Was the apartment locked?” _

“Yeah.”

_ “Shoot… I’m on my way. Keep looking for him, okay? I’ll ask the neighbors on my way up.” _

“Okay. Please hurry. I’m, uh… I’m like ten seconds away from a P.A.”

Stan made a sad little noise. P.A. was their code for panic attack.

_ “Just breathe, I’m sure he’s somewhere. We’ll find him, brother, don’t worry.” _

Russel’s throat tightened. All he could manage was a quiet noise of agreement before he hung up.

He couldn’t just be  _ gone _ … had he ran away? Why would he do that? Rus tried to think of something he or his brother could have done wrong, something to drive Red away, but… things had been getting better. 

_ What if he’s dead- _

Rus’s heart tightened painfully. No, he couldn’t be- there was… no way…

“Red, please come out,” he called, voice wet. The thought of anything bad happening to the poor little guy was enough to make tears well up in his eyes.

He checked and double checked everywhere. His bedroom, Stan’s bedroom, the bathroom, anywhere Red could possibly fit he was down on his knees with his phone flashlight, shining it in and hoping to see the frame of a little skeleton hiding within. But there wasn’t one.

“Red? C’mon, Red, I’m really worried,” he said, scrubbing at his eyes. He made it back to the living room, where Red’s cage was, and gave it a fourth look. Still, no Red.

He turned, and that’s when he saw it. One of the decorative boxes Stan loved so much, the ones that were always open, was shut.

Russel bolted over and got on his knees, sending up a quick prayer to a God he barely believed in before reaching forward and tilting open the lid of the box.

A palpable wave of relief went through him. A familiar little body was tucked up against one of the corners, huddled in the fetal position.

“Red,” Russel breathed. He didn’t manage much more before he noticed that Red was… not okay.

His good eye was burning with red magic, the usual soft glow replaced with a harsh light. He was flushed and shaking so hard he nearly rattled against the box.

Russel reached out for him. He gently laid a finger on his shoulder.

Red’s reaction was immediate. He yelped and lashed out, scratching Rus’s finger. The human withdrew with a quiet ‘ow’ as Red curled up tighter, hands thrown over his head.

His hand started bleeding. Rus’s stomach flipped.

“D-D-Don’t- don’-t do-don’t don’t-”

“Red…” Russel began, but it was like the bitty couldn’t hear him. He barely got enough air into his tiny little body as he hyperventilated and cried.

“Please don’t- pl-please do-on’t-” he sobbed, words broken by sniffles and shuddering breaths. He wasn’t looking at Rus.

“Red, it’s me…” Russel tried, holding his finger. It wasn’t hurt very badly- just a cat scratch, really. But even that night in the middle of the living room carpet, Red hadn’t been this bad.

“I-I’ll be- be g-good, please- please please don’t please-”

“Can you hear me, Red?”

The bitty didn’t respond, just whined and sobbed, magic flaring and flickering, pleading. 

Russel watched, tears falling gently from his eyes as his bitty suffered and he could do nothing to help. Red continued to babble and plead and beg for a couple of minutes before he quieted down. 

One of his little clawed hands reached up and he whined as he began to tears at his crack, right above his injured eye.

Russel moved forward and grabbed him at once, which elicited more screams from the bitty. He held Red with both hands against his chest, wincing as his claws dug into his skin and broke it, leaving little bloody trails as the bitty thrashed and kicked and wailed.

“Stop- hurts- stop please! Pl-please! S-stop! Stop stop stop!”

Russel whimpered. His head was spinning, he was triggered beyond all hell, but he couldn’t let Red hurt himself. He just kept seeing flashes of red- red from his blood, red from Red’s eye- it was too much red.

“Shh, it’s okay… it’s okay, Red. I’ve got you,” Russel tried to soothe, voice tight. He attempted to stroke the bitty’s skull and back, but that just seemed to upset him more.

“D-Don’t hurt me please don’t hurt me-” 

“Shh… Red, please…” Russel cried, holding him tightly so he couldn’t wound himself. He could feel droplets of his own blood running down his hand.

Eventually, after what seemed like years, Red tired himself out. His struggling grew weak, his claws no longer strong enough to break Russel’s skin. 

“Shh… shh, you’re okay. You’re fine- everything’s fine,” Russel cooed. He’d give anything for his brother to be here.

Red gasped for breath, little ribcage rising and falling. He began to calm as his breathing slowed.

There was a moment where he went still. Then, with a small groan, the familiar glow came back to his eyes as he pushed Russel’s hands away and looked up at him

“R… Ru-Rus?”

Russel bit back a sob. His head had smears of blood on it- so did his sweater, and his shorts, and his legs and arms… 

“Y-Yeah, little guy. It’s me.”

“I th… I thought you… were…” Red’s voice trailed off. He caught sight of the many red lines on Rus’s hands. 

A moment of silence passed. Red’s eye went wide and scared as he looked up at the human again.

“I… d-did… d-d-did… I…?”

“It’s fine. Just a couple of scratches,” Rus said, shifting Red to one palm so he could use an un-bloody part of his hand to wipe his still-falling tears away. 

More tears welled in the bitty’s eyes. He looked scared, and horrified, and worried.

Stan burst into the apartment just then.

“Russel! Did you find him-”

Stan froze in the living room doorway. His whole body went stiff- he must have seen the blood.

“Russel! Oh my god, what happened, are you okay-”

“I’m fine,” he said, still crying, hands stinging. He felt like his chest was trying to collapse in on itself.

Stan nearly skidded along the carpet as he went down on his knees, hands up as though to do something. Russel handed Red to him- he didn’t want to get anymore blood on the little guy.

“R-Rus… Rus…” Red began to sob again, tears falling. “M’ s-sorry, m’sorry-”

Russel finally got the chance to look at his hands, now that the adrenaline was fading and Red wasn’t clutched between them. They were scratched up to hell. A few of the lines, the ones from his claws, were deep enough to let trickles of blood slowly ooze down his skin, dripping onto his pants.

He stared at it. His blood. 

Stan went to work at once. He stood and quickly put Red in his cage, shutting the doors so the little bitty couldn’t get out. Red whined, pressed to the bars as Stan went over to Russel and helped him up.

“It’s just blood, you’re fine. A few scratches.”

Russel stared down at his big brother.

“Russel, nod if you’re okay.”

Rus sniffled, but managed that at least.

Stan nodded back. “Okay. Red, you wait there, you’re not in trouble, everybody just… stay calm,” Stan said, his brotherly instinct kicking in. Rus just stared at the trickling blood and swallowed the lump in his throat.

Stan cleaned him up really well. Russel went along with it without saying a word, only wincing as the water stung his cuts. 

“You’re okay, Rus,” Stan said as he dried off the scratches, trying for a smile. “Just breathe. It’s just blood.”

Rus had seen far too much of his own for it to be “just” blood. 


	13. Chapter 13

It had happened a number of times. Once, he’d been on his way home from work, and he’d tried to pet an alley cat. Another time, he’d been helping Stan chop some vegetables for dinner. The outcome was always the same.

Stan bandaged the myriad of scratches with patience. He didn’t know what had happened, but by the size, he could guess. He didn’t ask questions, because he knew Russel was in no position to explain. His brother just stared down until all of the wounds were covered, his eyes practically glazed over.

“Brother? Can you nod for me?”

Russel did it, eyes catching his older brother’s for a moment. He opened his mouth like he wanted to talk, but when nothing came out, he promptly closed it again.

“You’re okay, don’t try to talk,” Stan said at once, wiping up the last of the blood and putting a bandaid over the scratch. “You’re all cleaned up.”

Russel blinked and looked at his hands. Without a word, he dug in his hoodie pocket and quickly pulled out his phone.

Stan waited patiently. It took a bit longer, because of all of the bandages and gauze, but eventually his own phone pinged.

_ red had an episode, tried scratching his head. held him to stop him, n he scratched me. little dude wasn’t himself. _

__ “Okay,” Stan said, tucking his phone away. “I’ll go and talk to him. You go rest, okay?”

Russel scrubbed at his eyes again as he put his cell phone away, but he nodded. Between a full day of work and an episode like this, he was probably exhausted.

Stan took a moment to calm himself as his brother retreated to his bedroom. He stood from the table, taking a deep breath. His binder inhibited the motion to an extent, so with an exasperated huff he reached around and fiddled with it until it was unhooked. He pulled it out from under his shirt and threw it on the table before walking over and peaking into the living room to look at Red, still where they’d left him, still crying.

“Shh shh it’s okay, don’t cry,” Stan tried, hurrying over to the cage and quickly opening the doors. He stuck his hand in and offered it to the little guy. 

Red didn’t move. He stared up at Stan, tears spilling from his eyes. 

“P-Pl-ease d-don’t send m-me ba-ack,” he sobbed. 

Stan felt tears beginning to well in his own eyes. There was a deep, profound sadness in his voice, like he  _ knew _ he was going to be returned. Stan just shook his head.

“Red, honey… we’re not sending you back,” Stan said gently, composing himself. “We’re never going to send you back, okay buddy?”

Red sniffled and wiped the snot from his face. He hesitantly moved forward to Stan’s offered palm and clutched it tightly. The human quickly picked him up and held him against his chest.

“I-I didn’t- d-didn’t mean to- to- to scratch hi-im-” Red sobbed. “I c-couldn’t- couldn’t see-”

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt Russel, it’s okay,” Stan said gently. “They’re just scratches- he’s gonna be okay. Okay, Red?”

The bitty was a snotty, teary mess, but he nodded against Stan’s hand. He winced, one of his hands going up to touch his crack. 

“Why  _ did _ you scratch him, Red?” Stan asked softly.

It took a while, and his words were so broken and wet Stan could barely make them out, but eventually Red managed to tell him.

His old owner, his first owner, would put him in a box as punishment. Sometimes for an hour, sometimes for days. And when the lid came off, there was always pain. Flicking, cutting, sometimes worse. 

“I-I th-though- thought- i-it was him,” Red cried, finally beginning to calm after explaining so much. “E-Everyth-ing hu-urt, I c-couldn’t… couldn’t s-see…”

Stan had to let it all sink in. This was the first time he’d heard Red talk about his first owner, and the  _ fear _ … it was enough to make his chest tighten and his stomach turn. He stroked Red’s spine and leaned down to give him a kiss.

“It’s going to be okay,” Stan said gently. “How’d you end up in the box, honey?”

Red whined. “I… I-I was ch-chasing a la-ady bug…”

That would be so cute if not for the circumstances. Stan kissed him again.

“We’ll get rid of the boxes, okay? That way this won’t happen again.”

Red nodded. His miniscule fingers clutched at Stan’s clothes.

“M’ s… ‘m so-orry I’m b-broken.”

“Shh, Red… you’re not broken, baby,” Stan reassured. “You’ve been through so much, so much pain and fear and… and none of it was your fault. But it’s okay to be a little rough- just like Russel.”

Red was quiet. After a second, he sobbed.

“I-Is he… is he… uhm, m-mad…”

“He’s not mad at all, he’s just worried,” Stan explained. “He gets really worked up when he sees his own blood, because of some things that happened to him in the past. But that doesn’t mean he’s broken, right?”

Red shook his head. 

“Then you’re not broken, either. You got triggered and had an episode, and… and it’s scary, but that happens,” Stan said, trying so hard to explain. “It happens to Russel, and it might happen to you.”

“But… b-but I d-don’t wa-ant to hurt h-him again…”

“You won’t,” Stan said, giving Red another smooch. “Next time, we’ll be prepared- we’ll still be here, we’ll always be here for you, little guy.”

Red whined, but his tremors were starting to calm. Stan was glad.

“From now on, you can chase as many ladybugs as you want, but please watch where you’re going, okay?”

Red nodded. He looked up at the human, finally, his good eye wide and still filled with fear.

“A-Am… a-am I bad?”

Stan thought his chest would implode. He shook his head, shifting Red to one palm so he could wipe his own tears away.

“Of course you’re not bad- Red, you’re a wonderful little bitty, and Russel and I are both so happy to have you here.”

“C-Can… c-can… y-you promise?”

“Promise what, Red?” 

“N-Not… n-not to send me… s-send me a-away…”

Stan held the bitty up, momentarily forgetting his own pitiful tears and looking Red right in the eyes.

“Red, I promise. Russel promises. You’re a part of our family now.”

“F… family…” Red repeated softly.

“That’s right. You’re our littlest brother now, and we love you so much. And we’ll never, ever send you away.”

That seemed to reassure the bitty. Red nodded, crying, and Stan pressed him back to his chest.

Stan’s family had thrown him away like trash. For so long, Russel was all he’d had. Now this new, scared little thing had been thrown into their lives, and he would sooner die than abandon Red like his parents had abandoned him.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last sponsored chapter of little red for now! its short and sweet- enjoy!

“Russel? Can we come in?”

Rus was in his usual position, sat up against the headboard of his messy bed, a pillow clutched to his chest. He sniffled and gave the loudest “mhmm” he could manage.

The door creaked open, and Stan walked in, Red clutched against his chest. Russel scooted over as his brother and the bitty sat down beside him.

“H… Hey, Red,” Russel said quietly, wiping the residual tear tracks from his face. “You doin’ better, little bud?”

Red pushed against Stan’s chest until the brother grasped him safely and handed him to Russel. The younger brother took Red without pause and held him close, running hands down his back as the tears started up again.

“M’sorry- m’s-sorry, Rus,” Red cried as he grabbed as much of the human as he could with his miniscule arms. 

“S’okay, bud,” Russel cried with a sad smile. “You’re fine. I’m… I’m okay.”

They all stayed like that for a while. Stan leaned his head over against Rus’s shoulder with a deep sigh, and Russel looped his free arm around Stan’s shoulder while he held the shivering bitty. 

It was nice to just sit and bask in one another’s company. Russel snuggled close to his brother while Red snuggled close to him while they all three just… sat. It felt good to hear them breathe. 

“I’m thinking some kind of comfort food for dinner… how do you boys feel about big, greasy cheeseburgers?”

Russel nodded along with his bitty while Stan rummaged in the cupboards. Red hadn’t parted from him in the two hours they’d all just relaxed- it was like the little thing was glued to Russel’s chest.

“C-Can- I… uhm,” Red began, only to stop and give Rus’s shirt a squeeze.

“Go ahead, buddy,” Rus encouraged with a little finger noogie.

“I… i-if it’s o-okay, I… c-can I… have a ba-bath first?”

The brother’s had cleaned off most of the blood from Red’s little body, but that didn’t sound like a bad idea. Stan took the meat from the freezer and smiled.

“Absolutely, Red, that’s a great idea,” he said as he went about putting it in the microwave to thaw. “Russel, are you okay helping him?”

“Yeah, lets go get you all squeaky clean, lil bro,” Russel said as he stood from the table. Red flushed at the endearing term.

Red hadn’t really had a bath- not since the first botched attempt. He just hadn’t been dirty, really. It wasn’t like the little guy got sweaty, so there wasn’t as pressing of a need. Rus turned on the hot water to fill up the little tub while Red hesitantly grabbed the hem of his shirt.

“Is… I-Is it okay?” he asked, playing with the fabric. He was looking away, sheepish.

Rus nodded. “You need help?”

Red lifted up his arms in a wordless ‘yes’ and Russel helped him out of his tiny little sweater, followed by his pants. He knew what to expect this time, so the cracked and missing portion of his pelvis didn’t scare him. Red looked worried, so Rus leaned down to the bathroom counter and planted a kiss on his tiny little skull.

“How’s the water, feelin’ warm enough?” Russel asked as he lifted the little naked thing up so he could touch the warm water in the container. Red touched it, shivered, and then nodded.

“Alright, in ya go,” Russel said, holding him under the arms as he deposited the bitty into the warm, soapy liquid.

Red gasped as he was submerged, all but his skull underneath the water. Russel smiled as the bitty all but melted into his hand, which he’d stuck in as well. 

“Feel good?” Russel asked, though he hardly needed to.

“I-It’s… so- so warm,” Red sighed.

Russel smiled.

The tiny skeleton soaked in the water for a while as Rus went about washing his clothes. It didn’t take long- they dried super fast underneath the blow from the hairdryer. As his sweater dried, Rus looked over to the see the little guy attempting to swim in his little bath, a rare, happy smile on his face. It made Rus grin.

Red seemed to be having the time of his life. Rus held him and used a washcloth to wipe down his bones, cleaning his skull and his spine and his arms and legs until the bitty was spotless. Red’s body was limp in his grasp, little sighs and happy noises making their way out of his mouth. It was a contrast from the scared whimpers he’d made during his episode, but it was one Russel wouldn’t protest in the least.

The human avoided his pelvis, for the most part. He didn’t know if it was still sensitive, and he didn’t want to make the bitty uncomfortable. He’d read that bitties could feel sexual pleasure- even manifest things down there- but with Red’s broken pelvis he wasn’t sure if the little dude could. Either way, he avoided it, and Red didn't seem to mind.

    Drying the little thing off didn't take long. The human swaddled Red up in a blanket burrito, the bitty all but purring as he was rubbed and petted. It was nice to see him so relaxed in Rus’s grasp and to know he was comfortable being coddled like this.

    “Hey, Red?” Russel asked gently, holding the bitty against his chest.

    He mumbled and looked up, eyes sleepy.

    “I love ya, little dude.”

    Red blinked. He smiled- the gesture thankfully becoming less rare as time went on- and snuggled himself into Rus’s chest.

    “I… I l-love y-you…” Red gulped, suddenly shy. “Th-thank you f-for saving m-me…”

    Russel held him close and nodded.

    The cheeseburgers were done by the time the two broken boys finally parted.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what is this, a short red perspective chapter? its more likely than you'd think
> 
> two things! one, if you're interested in what all is getting updated from sponsorships, check out this post [HERE!](http://theperfecta.tumblr.com/post/175552112744/july-update)
> 
> two, i'm having a fanart contest for my fics, any of them, including this one! It goes until July 15th but if you're interested I can always extend the deadline- the info for that is righhhhttt about [HERE!](http://theperfecta.tumblr.com/post/174922913474/spectascopes-fanart-contest-hey-yall-i-decided)

It was very dark. There was nothing but Red, Russel, and Stan, the two humans towering over him like enormous monsters. They looked angry- at him. It had to be at him.

“We’re taking you back to the store.”

Red’s soul stuttered. Why couldn’t he talk?

“We can’t have you hurting Russel anymore. You’re more trouble than you’re worth, and we’re tired of taking care of you.”

No. No no no. Red held up his arms, moving them through what felt like sludge, wanting them to hold him. They… they were the first people to ever care about him, to make him feel safe. He didn’t want to go back- back to being alone, back to being called ugly, back to- Russel laughed at him.

“You’re so stupid. Needy, stupid, and ugly. We’re finally getting rid of you.”

Red couldn’t even whimper, couldn’t move. Russel raised his foot in the air, right over Red.

“Bye bye, little guy.”

 

Red woke up to the sound of his own wailing. He shut himself up at once, scared of angering the brothers, and curled into a fetal position on his bed.

It wasn’t the first time he’d had that nightmare. It wouldn’t be the last.

“Red, hun? Are you okay?” came a soft voice from the doorway. Red whined and wished he could have silenced himself sooner- Stan came in, wiping the sleep from his eyes, and went right to Red’s cage. 

The familiar pang of fear went through him, but he did his best to quell it. It was just a dream, Stan wasn’t going to hurt him. He had to tell himself that.

He sniffled, and Stan picked him up at once, holding the bitty to his chest and cooing.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. It was just a nightmare, little bug, you’re okay,” he said softly, his big, warm hands running along Red’s spine.

“F… felt real,” Red whimpered.

Stan took him over to the couch. He felt so bad. What a mess, what a bother he was, waking one of his owners up with his stupid, stupid nightmares. He deserved to be sent back to the store, he deserved to be hurt, he deserved-

“Just a nightmare, Red, you’re gonna be okay,” Stan continued to soothe him, petting away at his skull and back, gentle and caring. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Red curled himself into the warmth and ignored the voice in his head, the ever-present part of him that told him he didn’t deserve this, that he was stupid and ugly and bad, a bad bitty. He had to tell it to shut up and leave him alone. 

“M...Mis-Mister?”

“Hmm?”

“I…” Red’s voice broke and he had to wait a moment to continue. “I… can-can I… sl-sleep with y-you?”

“Of course you can, little bud,” Stan confirmed. He held Red carefully as he shifted to lay on the couch before setting the bitty on his chest. “How’s that?”

“Mm… good,” Red said, curling into the soft warmth and pressing his face into the fabric. “Th-Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, hun,” Stan said softly. “You just let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

“Mm,” Red agreed. It felt so nice… he could feel Stan’s heart beating, steady and comforting in its rhythm. The human hadn’t even questioned him, hadn’t made him feel stupid for having nightmares like a baby, he was… he was just there. Stan was here, and he was holding him, and he… maybe he didn’t hate Red. 

Maybe… maybe he did deserve this. 

Red fell asleep, and the nightmares stayed away for the rest of the night.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brief mention of self harm and misgendering in this chapter

Red was woken by Stan shifting underneath him. He started, scared for a moment, before he remembered where he was.

“Fall asleep on the couch?” came Russel’s low, soothing voice. Red looked up and saw the human standing by the end of the couch. He reached out and offered his hand to the bitty, and Red quickly scooted into his palm and as soon as he was able to, curled himself up against his chest.

“Mm.. ‘m up,” Stan mumbled, yawning and stretching. Red idly patted Rus’s shirt, feeling the soft fabric. It felt good to just feel, after last night. To know Russel was here and not mad at him. The gentle fingers rubbing the back of his rib cage reminded him of that.

“You like my shirt, lil dude?”

Red drew his hand away and stared up at Russel, afraid he’d angered the human with his actions. But Russel only smiled and pet him. Red let out a shaky breath he’d been holding.

“You’ve had that thing forever,” Stan commented, wiping his eyes and standing up to stretch out his legs. “I remember you wearing it when you were in high school.”

“Heh, yeah, haven’t done a lot of growing since the growth spurt of eleventh grade,” he said. Eleventh grade? Red didn’t question it, though he wanted to. Maybe…

“Wh…” his courage wavered as Rus stared down at him, but he swallowed and went on, determined.

“What… what is… high-school?”

“Oh!” Stan said as Russel blinked. “It’s where you go to learn when you’re young!”

“Oh… okay,” Red said, curling back into Russel’s hold, content. Asking questions was okay, it seemed. They never got mad at him for asking questions. Maybe he’d ask more of them.

“What’s the plan, Stan?” Rus asked as he stroked away at Red’s back and skull.

“I got paid this morning, so it’s shopping time!” Stan said with a grin. “Our birthdays are in about a week, after all.”

“Huh, really? November’s gone by fast,” Russel said. “What day is it?”

“It’s the 12th today,” Stan said.

“Birth...days?” Red asked, looking up again at the two as they spoke.

“Birthdays!” Stan said happily. “Mine is on the 18th, and Russel’s is the 21st, so we always celebrate on the 19th of November and exchange presents and have a nice night in!”

Red stared up at them. “Presents?”

“Yeah, we get each other presents. Gifts, you know,” Russel explained. “We’ll get you some stuff too, bud, don’t worry. We wouldn’t leave our favorite little guy out of the birthday fun, even though yours is in September. Well… even though we _made_ yours in September.”

“I-It’s… it’s okay, I don’t- uhm- I don’t…” Red tried to protest, staring up at Russel. “I don’t… need… m-more…”

“Well, you might not _need_ more, but it's fun to open presents with the people you love!” Stan said happily. “You’ll see, little guy. It’ll be fun.”

Red nodded.

“Well, you and Red can go out shopping, if you want to,” Russel said with a sly smile. “I already got you guys presents.”

“Russel!” Stan said, thumping him gently on the arm, conscious of Red being held in his hands.

Rus laughed. “Heh, what? I came prepared this year. Thought you and little Red could have a nice day out together while I catch up on some Z’s.”

“Out?” Red parroted, questioning.

“Out n about on the town- you know, like a little date.” Russel smiled down at the bitty, holding him away from his body and supporting him with both hands.

“You’re sure you don’t want to tag along, brother?” Stan asked, looking concerned.

Russel shook his head while Red looked between them. “Nope, I’m gonna nap the day away. Besides, you and Red need to get some bonding in- you’re working so much the two of you only ever get to hang on the weekends. Go have some bro time.”

Stan blinked for a moment, but then nodded with a determined grin. “Okay! What do you say to a fun day out with your big brother Stan, Red?”

Red nodded. Of course he was okay with that. He loved Stan.

 

Finding a safe position for Red in the car was a task in itself. They didn’t make safety seats for bitties… or, if they did, Stan had never seen one. He made a mental note to check it out before too long. In the meantime, he stashed Red away in his front shirt pocket and drove five miles under the limit at all times, staying hyper vigilant to avoid accidents.

Red seemed cozy against his bound chest, nestling into the warmth and mumbling gently as they rode. It wasn’t a long trip to the store they were heading to- Stan had a vague idea what he wanted to get Russel for his birthday this year.

“So, I think I’m going to get him some Magic cards,” Stan said, mostly to himself, but Red perked up at his voice and peaked out of the pocket.

“M...Magic?”

“It’s a card game he used to play when he was younger, when we…” Stan trailed off. Lived with their parents. He shook himself. “When he was younger. We used to play together!”

“Can… I pl-play too?”

Stan giggled. “Well, the cards might be a little too big for you, but we can certainly help you out, hun.”

Red hummed and went back to his curled up position in Stan’s pocket.

Russel had been really into Magic the Gathering in his high school years. Stan didn’t much understand it, he only knew the basics, but he liked to play with Russel and hear him talk about the different cards and what they did. Their parents had “confiscated” Russel’s cards after he’d “exhibited bad behavior” so he hadn’t had them in years- Stan had thought about it the other day at the supermarket when a teen had sheepishly checked a pack of Pokemon cards. It seemed like a great present! He could get them both some cards, enough to play with, and they could have a big ol’ dose of nostalgia!

He didn’t want to bring up any sore thoughts, though. The “bad behavior” Russel had done was self harm. They’d taken away one of his only sources of joy because he’d cut himself… the thought made Stan clench the steering wheel and frown, but he dismissed it at once. He couldn’t think about that, they’d started their life over, and now Russel could play as much Magic: The Gathering as he wanted to!

They got the mall without a hitch. The card store wasn’t very populated, so Stan zipped in and bought a few things with what little money he had to spare, he he was out of there. Red stayed in his pocket the whole time, content but curious as Stan walked around the mall.

“You wanna go into any of the stores?” Stan asked the bitty. It was like he had a headset on and was talking to somebody that nobody else could see. His little pocket friend.

“Uhm… I don’t… uh… know.”

“How about the pet store! We can look at all the fish and the puppies, does that sound like fun?”

Red seemed confused, but nodded. Stan was glad bitties were only sold at specialty stores- Red liked to watch videos of kittens and little animals playing, and they could go see some for free here! But it would be weird to take a bitty to cruise around a bitty store, or anywhere where they were sold, for that matter.

“You’ll love it, little bug, they’ve got kittens and birds and sometimes even chinchillas! Have you ever seen a chinchilla before?”

Stan had a hard time seeing all of his little reactions, so he gently drew the bitty out of his pocket, asking if it was okay first. Red seemed concerned, but allowed the human to do it. He looked around the mall and all the people with a wide eye and open mouth.

“Big…” he said.

“It is! Big and cool- the mall is an awesome place to hang out.”

Red nodded, curling up against Stan as the human held him steady in one palm, letting the bitty use his fingers as leverage.

“Have you ever been to a mall before, Red?” Stan asked as they walked, avoiding the big swaths of people wherever he could.

Red shook his head.

“Do you like it?”

“Nn… Nobody is… staring at me.” His tiny hands clutched Stan’s shirt a little tighter.

“They’ve all got their own things to think about. Some of them probably have bitties of their own with them! Look, over there- see that person in the red shirt? They’ve got a bitty on their shoulder!”

Indeed they did. As they walked by, the human took no notice of them, but the Baby Blue on their shoulder waved happily down to Red, eyes bright and shining.

Red clutched at Stan’s shirt as though scared. Stan didn’t blame him, just held him with his other hand and cooed.

“It’s okay- nobody is going to hurt you, hun. We’re safe.”

“Mm… mm.” Red snuggled close.

The pet store came up quick enough. Stan walked into the brightly lit area with Red in tow, picking out a few animals as soon as they entered.

“Oh…” Red breathed as he spotted the little glass enclosures with puppies playing inside. The wall was covered with them. Stan took the bitty over and held him up to see.

“P...Puppies,” Red said softly. Stan shifted so he could see Red’s face, a little weiner dog catching him off guard as it jumped at the glass and pressed its little black nose to it.

A rare, wonderful little smile lit Red’s face as he stared at the dogs.

The cats got him to giggle, even, as one of the kittens attempted to bat at Stan’s fingers through the wire of the cage. It was a golden little noise, one Stan hoped he’d hear more and more frequently as time passed.

“What… are those, o-over there?” Red asked, pointing. A little enclosure in the middle of the floor had a group of three long, furry bodies romping around in it.

“Ferrets!” Stan explained with a grin. “They’re stinky.”

“Stin...ky,” Red parroted. He seemed to do that a lot- Stan didn’t question it. If repeating his words made Red feel better, he was free to do it as much as he liked.

“And look, Red!” Stan said excitedly, nearly tripping over his own feet to get to the parakeet cage. “Birds!”

Red gasped as he saw a group of zebra finches fluttering about their home, flitting this way and that.

They continued to peruse the pet store for nearly half an hour. Red seemed to love it- he requested to go back to the puppies the most, and Stan even found him an old, sleeping cat to pet through the cage. He did so with stars in his eyes, miniscule fingers running through the soft fur.

“May I help you, ma’am?”

Stan’s mood was so high, even being misgendered wasn’t enough to break it. He looked at the young lady and smiled.

“I’m actually a ‘sir’, if it’s not too much trouble,” Stan said sheepishly.

Russel didn’t like it when he corrected people himself- the worry wart was afraid some bigot would retaliate with violence. But he wasn’t here, and Stan always saw the good in people before the bad. What was the worst that could happen?

“Oh! I’m so sorry, sir,” she said at once, then her eyes went to Red. “Oh my gosh! What a cute little bitty!”

Red blushed and clung to Stan’s sweater.

“His name’s Red,” Stan said, smiling. “And it’s fine! No harm done, thank you for being so understanding.”

The tag on her uniform said “Rachel.” Stan gave her a big grin. She apologized again, Stan reassured her it was fine, and then they were on their way through the store.

Stan had saved the back wall for last. Red has glanced at it now and again, the soft blue light drawing his eyes, but Stan insisted they wait until they were about to leave.

Red’s eyes went wide as Stan took him to look at the fish. The human held the little thing up and let him put his hands on the glass, staring at the goldfish in wonder.

“Wh...what are they?” Red asked, turning to look at Stan. “A...Aren’t they… d-drowning?”

“They’re fish,” Stan said, happy to explain new things to the bitty. “They breathe underwater. Isn’t that cool?”

“W...Woah,” Red said, turning his attention back to the fish in the tank. He pressed his face to it with a ‘clank’ and took in their waving fins and big, buggy eyes.

They left the pet store after Red had his fill of everything in it. A few people commented on the bitty, but thankfully nobody said anything mean to him. Red took the compliments with a blush and stutter, curling against the fabric of Stan’s sweater to hide his face.

They stopped at the food court, grabbing some Chinese food. Red liked the noodles, though Stan had to cut them up into little pieces for him to eat them properly. Rice was easier for him to handle, he just grabbed the grains in his little hands and popped them in his mouth like candies.

“Uhm… mm. Stan?” Red asked as they sat at the table, full and content.

“Yes?”

“Am… a-am I trans, too?”

Stan blinked down at the bitty sat on a napkin, who was looking away.

“Well, little bug, I… I don’t know.” Stan rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not sure bitties have the same definition of trans as humans do…”

“O-Oh…” Red looked down and grabbed the hem of his blue hoodie they’d bought him a couple weeks ago.

“Why do you ask?”

“I-I don’t… I uhm… mm,” Red mumbled something soft and looked in his lap, hands twisting in the fabric.

“What was that, bug?”

“I don’t… like it. When people, uhm… make… make you sad.” Red sucked in a shuddering breath before he went on. “A-And I don’t… I don’t know why… p-people… make you sad.”

Stan sighed, reaching over and cupping his hand around the bitty. “Aww, Red… it’s okay, honey, I’m not sad right now! The lady in the store didn’t mean to misgender me, she apologized, everything is okay… how could I be sad when I’m hanging out with my favorite bitty in the whole world?”

Red blushed and buried his face in Stan’s skin, the off-white of his bones standing out starkly from the human's own dark composure.

“Sometimes… people call me a girl. And that hurts, because I’m not a girl, and I don’t like being called something that I’m not!” Stan explained. He tried to put it into words that Red would understand. “It reminds me of when I had to pretend I was somebody I wasn’t. Not being myself hurts… have you ever had to pretend you were somebody you weren’t?”

Red stared up at Stan for a moment before he nodded.

“I, uhm, I… nobody, uhm… nobody liked it wh-when I… was myself,” Red said quietly, so quiet that the thrum of conversation around them nearly drowned him out. “Nobody… e-except you and- and Russel.”

Stan made a sad noise, squeezing the bitty with his hand in a semblance of an embrace. “That doesn’t feel good, does it? When people don’t like you for who you are?”

Red sniffled, but nodded.

“That’s why I get sad sometimes.” Stan smiled through the sadness and rubbed Red’s skull with his thumb. “But I have you, and Russel, and some of my friends from work- and you guys all make me feel better.”

Red nodded again, wiping the beginnings of tears from his socket.

“So don’t be sad when it happens, okay? It’s just something we have to deal with- maybe until I get top surgery, or maybe forever…” Stan stared off into space for a while before he sighed. “But as long as I have people who love me for me, then I’ll be okay. Do you feel the same?”

Another nod.

Stan smiled and leaned down to kiss Red’s tiny head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, i'm a nb person who ID's as trans, so if anybody has any criticisms of my descriptions of being a trans man please let me know! i'm doing my best here but i'd like to be as accurate as possible, constructive criticism is always welcome uwu


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